


Moonlit Escapades

by RB (BlueflowersandWings)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Action/Adventure, Akaashi is done with Kuroo, Alternate Universe- Fantasy, Alternate Universe- Royalty, Angst, Boys In Love, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Magic, Minor Character Death, Mpreg, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Plot Twists, Slow Build, Slow Romance, Supernatural Elements, Trauma, Unrequited Love, Yaku talks in constant caps, Yamaguchi owns an ancient cafe, light comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:28:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21885235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueflowersandWings/pseuds/RB
Summary: Kuroo Tetsurou had only wanted one thing his entire life: to roam beyond the looming castle walls, and see the world. He had achieved it, of course (he was too stubborn not to)- but if he had known what the consequences might be, he would have never jumped that night. He means it.There are few things that he loves more than his dreams (his friends, for example, and Tsukishima Kei). Now, as he stands over the cliff, watching how the kingdom he loved falls into smoke and ash and destruction, his fists clench by his sides involuntarily.This was time forwar. He wouldn't have it any other way.Or,(There are some stories in Nekoma that should never be heard, and there are some people who live to make and spin new stories. Kuroo Tetsurou is one such guy, and his story changes that of several others in one crazy night. Literally.)[This is the edited version of my old story under the same name. The older one is discontinued, but I hope you all enjoy this.]
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 23
Kudos: 20





	1. Prologue: Land of Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and welcome to this story! To those who have read the older version of this story, it has been discontinued, and this one is an edited, newer version of it. To those who didn't, this was supposed to be in my list of discarded stories, but recently, I returned to it, and thought it was too good to be left like that. So here I am, with a fresh new take on this, and I hope everyone enjoys this!
> 
> This is just the prologue, but read on, and let's meet downstairs! :))

  


Every story, however small, starts with one story. Even a story that is made up of several others, starts with _only_ one story too.

  


"THIS IS IT. HE'S DONE."

Pure, unfiltered sunlight streamed into the ruby-tiled corridors, transparent glass panes sparkling brilliantly in the soft awakening of a new morning. The wake-up calls and screeches of early birds echoed through the sky, soft whistles of happy maids and returning Flame-workers roughly joining their tune. The bustling kingdom of Nekoma, perpetually busy with life and traders, rose into the day from a deep night's slumber, as did the thick-walled fortress that was its ruler's palace, lying far north of the city.

It is here where our story begins; inside this palace, guarded within an insurmountable burnt-brick wall, surrounded thick with evergreen, life-breathing plants, decorated beautiful with whites and reds and just an ornamental touch of silver. A new day has begun in the kingdom, as it has here; and this day brings along a start of fresh new stories, unaware though its characters might be. A story can be made up of many stories, but always starts with one. A new day brings forth new dreams, old revivals, borderline dangerous complexities- and for the moment, our starting story starts with a dream.

A Prince's dream.

"OKAY, WHICH FOOL ALLOWED LEV TO BORROW TANAKA'S SWORD FOR THE DAY? JUST BECAUSE HE'S CARELESS DOESN'T MEAN HIS WEAPONS ARE FOR FREE."

Kuroo's hair twitched; he pensively opened his eyes. "Akaashi," groaning passionately, he glanced back at his companion sitting at one side of the nearby couch. "Say, does Yaku never get enough of ruining our mornings _every single day_?"

Akaashi Keiji stares straight at him, and blinks in contemplation, once. "I believe Lev-san's quite mischievous," he finally remarks, returning back to pouring clear golden tea into the noble's cup. "Yaku-san has low tolerance for people who are more inclined towards mischief-making. Good morning, Kuroo-san."

Kuroo snorts a derisive sound, shaking his head and stuffing the pillow over his ears to block out the strings of profanities that flow in through the large open windows. "I'm pretty sure _good_ mornings don't start like this," he says, closing his eyes, trying to claim back the last shreds of waning sleep in complete vain. "Seriously, Lev steals things from the armoury every two days; why does Yaku get surprised each time that happens?"

"Yaku-san feels responsible for his brother. He worries." Akaashi placed the fragile cup on a finely-furnished plate with delicate fingers. "Your tea, Kuroo-san."

"I think he's more inclined to murder his brother than care for him," Kuroo looks up with a grin at this, and blanches when he sees the tea. "Akaashi, I told you I hate that herbal tea concoction-thing, that too first thing in the morning. Take it away from me!"

Akaashi stares at him wordlessly, and gives him a _look_. "King's orders. You need to maintain a healthy physique, Kuroo-san."

"But that stuff's bitter! I'm the only one who even bothers to drink it."

Akaashi gives him another _look_ , while Kuroo huffs defiantly. "Yaku-san _loves_ drinking it. It is infused with a dozen foreign herbs with medicinal and regenerative properties, and is very good for your body."

The noble scrambles out of his blankets, unruly hair defying gravity in the most impossible of ways. "Do you see that man out there?" he indignantly points outside the window, sitting up on his bed, bare chest perfectly tanned in the fresh sunlight. " _That_ man destroys the mornings at the castle on a regular basis, and that man drinks _that_ tea. Do you want me to become that man, Akaashi?"

Akaashi looks amused at the noble's dramatics, lips curling an inch. "King's orders," he repeats, and Kuroo sighs in defeat, shoulders slumping dejectedly. 

"You're an evil person, Akaashi," he murmurs, bringing the thin cup of china reluctantly to his lips. "You're evil, and only I know that."

Outside, the eldest noble of the Nekoma Royal Family, Yaku Morisuke, prowls the palace grounds in search of his insolent young brother. And when said sibling is finally spotted, the wind echoes the panicked screams of young maids, and the carefree laughter of the youngest noble in the family.

Every story starts with one story, and our story starts with a dream- a Prince's dream. That Prince's name is Kuroo Tetsurou, and in the biological order of things, he is not a prince. He is not the son of the old Grand King, nor the grandson; but yet, he is a prince, and _why_ so, is a question that the unravelling of our story shall answer itself.

****

  


_"Hey, miss," the small boy exclaims, eyes bright with childlike wonder and curiosity, "Before you go, will you tell me a story?"_

_The maiden of the Black Wind smiles, eyes soft, shadowy dark hair flowing smooth into the cutting breeze. "I may," she says, voice a smooth, elegant chime. "Will you quietly listen to what I say?"_

_The boy nods, enthusiastic, unruly dark hair falling like a fringe over soft golden eyes. The woman looks past his small frame, past the rocky cliff and into the valley before; past the destroyed, broken city of Nekoma, and towards the Royal castle that lay now, only short of ruins. She looked long at the reds and whites and silvers scattered torn along the building, and at the tattered flag of the kingdom, bearing the majestic insignia of the age-long, once-glorified kingdom._

_The place was crushed now, utterly devastated. But destruction paved the way for Creations, and creations paved the way for fresh new beginnings. New lives, and fresh new stories._

_And unlike most things in the world, the maiden of the Black Wind loved telling stories._

_She bent down, on one knee, and looked the boy in the eyes. "Then listen," she said, as the boy did what was told. "Listen as I tell you the story of an age-long, majestic kingdom, which was vast, ancient, and pure magic. It had a rich and interesting history, filled with stories of Dragons and Stars and winged warriors and brave, strong rulers. The people there narrated tales of little slum-boys with fiery eyes and crow-black wings to their children, and of warriors who froze the very ground upon which they walked; about angels who fled away from their heaven above, and about people with hearts of gold, poisoned cold by the venom of envy and vengeance. In this story, there are many stories, and many, many princes. They are nobles by birth, but one of them holds the right to be King. It is a prince's story, and of several others, but I don't have much time, so I'll only tell you his."_

_"Can't you tell me all of them?" the young boy pleaded, and his soft voice and innocent wish melted away the woman's sense of time and inhibitions._

_"Fine," she relented, "I'll tell you all. But we have to start with one first. Because every story, however small, starts with one story. And even a story that is made of several others, starts with only one story."_

  


A new story begins, and for the time being, a new day has begun in Nekoma, the land of Dreams.


	2. The Prince who Fled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo makes the biggest plan of his life, while somewhere else, a nightmare slowly broods under the shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS TO EVERYONE!!! HOPE YOU ALL LIKE READING THIS :)))

  


_"You know, Akaashi.. I've been thinking."_

_"I must say that you thinking is never a good sign of things, Kuroo-san."_

_"Hey! Stop presuming stuff and just listen, okay? For the last few days, I've been thinking- like really seriously thinking- and I think I have come up with a plan."_

_"I see. A plan for what, exactly?"_

_"A plan to run away, of course! It's brilliant, and I expect your full cooperation on this, Akaashi."_

_This is precisely how the day the second-eldest noble of the Nekoma Kingdom planned through and through the greatest flight of his life, the strings of destiny changed; snapped, sought, intertwined, and connected his story with several others to make it what it is today. It is from that day onward that his story began, his journey did- and from that day onward, royal valet Akaashi Keiji realised that despite his seemingly level-headed maturity and reliably broad shoulders, Kuroo Tetsurou might be one of the craziest people residing in the castle._

  


Thus, as mentioned before, our story starts with a dream- Kuroo Tetsurou's dream. But, unlike his story, there are several others in the world that do not start like his- some start with broken dreams, some with scary visions, and some with no dream at all. Our protagonist starts his journey happily, full of hope and optimistic enthusiasm- but in the heart of Nekoma kingdom, where dreams are seen and broken every moment of the day, several stories begin abruptly, while some end even before their inception.

Take that old story, for example, which began years ago before ours, and started disjointedly not with a dream, but with a nightmare. A nightmare that once a little boy saw, hidden under his bed one strange mid-winter's night, whose eyes are yet unable to forget those sights even after countless years still.

Instead of ending, contrary to popular knowledge, his journey still continues, as does his story; quietly, in the dark, it lurks and waits, toils everyday for its own justified ending. And it is thus not long before it shall intertwine with our own tale, complicate it, and change the courses of each others' presaged destiny entirely.

(Which goes to say that if our story was once destined to have a happy ending, it might be so no longer. Stories are quite funny things, after all.)

  


_/ / /_

  


"Okay," Kuroo Tetsurou whispers, "You remember our plan tonight, right?"

Akaashi looks up, pinning him with a dead stare. "I do," he says, voice low and cold, "And I still think that this is the worst idea you have ever had in your life, Kuroo-san."

Frowning, Kuroo makes a pained, strangled noise, kicks his feet high like a child's, and groans. "Akaashi," he says, more like a whine, back leaning low upon a levitating library chair floating ten-feet up from the polished floor. "You know how we perfected this plan for over a _month_ , and you know how much it means to me, right? Why are you so keen on backing out now, at the final moment?"

Akaashi stares fixedly over the mounds and piles of books he was busy arranging; keeps working to bundle them up by titles and genres, never sparing a glance at his flying, groaning mess of a companion. Patiently, he works through dividing the last thirty books on the table- he had presumably sorted a hundred books by this morning- and decides to maintain a respectful silence rather argue further on this topic. Kuroo Tetsurou will have none of that though; both the noble and his valet had been cooped up in the Library since morning, Akaashi tasked to rearrange all the books that one Haiba Lev had messed up during his previous warfare classes, while Kuroo practised aerobic tricks with a chair that refused to civilly come down from the air. Soft but resolute, both of them had been arguing on one particular topic all day long, and though Akaashi was inclined to not continue, the older noble was nothing if not admirably, awfully persistent.

This was a big thing they were talking about, after all, probably the biggest endeavour of their lives till date; and Kuroo would rather forgo it than not have his childhood best friend by his side tonight.

"Akaashi," the noble leapt straight down from the chair, a good ten-feet jump with ease, and approached his valet with purpose, thick crimson cloak flowing out behind his trail. Deliberately, he took a hold of the book Akaashi seemed so busy to sort, and tugged it away from his hands. "Akaashi, _hey_ ," he said, in a bid to get his friend's undivided attention. " _Look_ at me. Tell me, why don't you want us do this?"

Akaashi spared him a look, onyx eyes hard like stone, yet soft with something akin to concern. "Isn't it obvious?" he replied, voice imperceptibly rough, tugging his book back from Kuroo's outstretched hand. He took a deep breath, seemingly composed himself, and walked to one of the bookshelves behind, the noble staring confusedly at his wake.

"Isn't it obvious?" Akaashi repeated, eyes not meeting Kuroo's, voice wet with the concern he had only tried to hide up till now. "You are a _noble_. An honorary, an extremely important member of this Royal Household. This palace is your home, and your safety is of the utmost concern to everyone working here. _Including_ me," he shot a cold glare at the stubborn noble, who winced. "Under these circumstances, you begin to think of a _plan_ , a ridiculous, thousand-rules breaking plan, and you actually expect me to help you go through with it. Kuroo-san, I'm your friend, but I'm your valet too, and ensuring your safety is the first and foremost priority of my life. Do you _get_ that?"

Kuroo stared quietly at his friend, who returned back to arranging the books. Clearing his throat, he coughed deliberately, once. Honestly, he had expected this scenario, he really _had_ \- but not nearly in such a peculiar manner. 

  


**(** He had planned this for such a long time, after all; and Akaashi had been there with him through it all. He had tried to deter him, stop him, even ignore him on occasions (which had been completely useless, by the way)- but in the end, he had came around. Seen Kuroo's viewpoint, felt his need, understood his dreams, and that was the biggest support the noble could have ever gotten in the castle.

But appearances often lie, and people have many appearances. It was a lesson Kuroo had learnt early in the palace, but one he never expected to apply on his friend. Had never felt the need to, honestly.

Beneath that quiet, expressionless, slightly prickly appearance, Akaashi was a man of great feelings. And to persuade him, Kuroo had to understand where he was coming from, his own viewpoints, his personal understanding of the situation. And if there was one thing the noble was, among many other great things (should he say so himself), then that was being awfully persistent. Almost ridiculously so. He knew several people hated him for that, including and not limited to one Akaashi Keiji, so he had to use it against him. To make his plan work. **)**

  


"Akaashi," he intoned, soft and slightly persuasive. "I understand your concern, I really do. But I'll be fine out there, by myself. You know I'm strong enough with my magic, right- even _Yaku_ admits that I am too powerful for my age. Isn't that not enough validation for you?"

Akaashi sighed; this is why he valued silence, he was fighting a losing battle here. "Kuroo-san," his voice returned to its polite, soft tones, "I don't doubt your strength, not at all. But by asking me to help you in this, you are compelling me to go against every duty I have to this palace and to you. I am supposed to protect you; how do you expect me to help you leave this place and dive into the unknown, when I won't even be there beside you?"

"But that's okay," Kuroo argued, persistent. "You aren't leaving me alone, you're just, you're allowing me some freedom until the time I'll really not be able to leave this castle! It's your duty to protect me, but I won't come by any harm, really- even if I do, I'll deal with it. Besides, this plan depends completely on your word, and if you don't agree to it, then we'll never succeed."

Akaashi stared at the book in his hands for a long time. "Kuroo-san," he spoke to the book, and stuffed it back into its place before it threw an animated tantrum, "If you ask me to do it, I shall do it. I shall do anything which pleases you. But I cannot agree to some of your wishes, and though I won't stop you, some words of caution need to be heeded for a safer journey ahead. You have never explored the outside lands, but I have, long back- and I distinctly remember a lot of fools who ended up dying just because they were a touch careless."

The silence that followed was long and tensed. Akaashi sighed, for the umpteenth time; this is what his life always came back to. He was bound tight to his duties, strongly so, but more to those of a friend than those of a valet, and it often got the better of him during arguments. Kuroo was generally a level-headed person, despite all crazy, dubious appearances; but he often had adventurous desires, and Akaashi was often too weak to stop him. His position in the palace demanded him to heed to his noble's every wish, but he was an utterly remarkable failure as friend, surprising as it was even to his own self.

Akaashi was a rational person, so he avoided having major regrets in life. The rare ones he had though, being such a lousy example of a friend was the highest on the list. He was too weak when it came to the wishes of one Kuroo Tetsurou, and he didn't understand why.

"Oh, are you indirectly calling me a fool Akaashi?"

The valet jumped; he hadn't noticed when the noble had tiptoed his way so close to him. _Curse that stealth running in the family._ He turned, and looked up to face Kuroo in the eye. The noble was smiling, more like a grin, but his eyes were sad, a sombre hazel, a captivating shade swimming with a gratitude and something else that Akaashi didn't understand the reason of. He waited, for the taller man to speak, and when he did- a strong hand running fingers through his unruly hair- they were some of the most sincere words Akaashi had ever heard coming out of the noble's lips.

"Thank you, Akaashi," Kuroo Tetsurou said, and Akaashi knew he had forgiven him already. A great friend he was. "I'm sorry for your inconvenience, for asking you to do this- but thank you for understanding me. Thank you so very much."

Akaashi breathed out, small and exasperated. He nodded a little in reply, and made to walk around the noble to start working again. His attempts failed when Kuroo stood in his way, and unceremoniously, wrapped him in the deepest, warmest, and most uncomfortable hug Akaashi had ever been given in his life. It was a hug just like he remembered the noble to have; heartwarming, but delivered at the most inappropriate of times.

"Kuroo-san," he protested, weakly trying to extricate himself from the noble. "I have _work_. Didn't you say we had to execute our plan at night? It's still day outside."

"Hmm," Kuroo hummed contently, arms inhumanly strong. "I'm hugging you because I want to, Akaashi. And until I'm done, you cannot return to your duties. No one's going scold you for it."

"I understand," Akaashi replied, frowning. "But no one is going to help me when I have to spend an extra hour trying to finish cleaning the library. Our plan might be delayed for this, too."

"Oh," the noble exclaimed. "Let me help you then."

Kuroo let go of the valet quite suddenly, who stumbled a bit. He stared as the noble began sorting through the books kept on the table, trying and formulating his own logic to categorise all remaining titles, and the valet sighed. Kuroo had never been very good at handling those shape-shifting, jelly-like volumes, forever complaining that they attacked his hair when enraged- and his fingers were dangerously close to touching one of them, and potentially wreaking havoc inside the sacred enclosure.

See, when he knows how disastrous Kuroo Tetsurou can get, even unintentionally, was Akaashi really not justified in worrying about his safety when he wanted to venture outside the protected castle walls, far away from what he called home?

Akaashi's lips curled. Disastrous or not, he was grateful for the help. He might not be a good friend, but he was grateful for a friend like Kuroo.

"Leave it be, Kuroo-san," he said, walking up to the visibly frazzled noble who had a childhood inclination to avoid all things related to scriptures. "It's almost time for your History Lessons, and Takeda-sensei will lose his head if you went missing for the fifth class in a row. We shouldn't keep that man waiting, especially if you want to run away tonight."

  


__

_/ / /_

  
  


Loud, echoing footsteps resounded through the hallway, green pillars littered dirty with peeling plasters, broken bricks and ancient thick cobwebs. A dark, cloaked figure walked gracefully through this passage, feet light and fleeting, hands rigid, slanted eyes a warm, curious brown. Through the hood of his cloak peeked a few strands of hair, dark and grey, and a sharply-pointed chin painted white as a ghost's pallor. With soundless steps, the man arrived at a room at the end of the corridor, his apparent destination hidden behind rusty wooden doors, over which he knocked twice. Grabbed the old handles, and opened it inside. Smiled a small smile, and ushered himself in.

Once inside the room, the man slowly took off his hood. It was too dark for an onlooker to spot him, anyway.

The tall, slender man looked fixedly at the mirror in front. His pale, shadowed face and brushed long hair reflected back from the glass, and he grinned. Rows of sharp, pearly teeth shone bright against the darkness, and with a thin hand, he swished his fingers at the mirror. At once, the image changed, the scenery behind the glass transformed, and as his own reflection distorted, the man peeked curiously into the glass. His ghastly smile was still there, pasted over ghost-pale skin- it was just his eyes that had changed.

They glowed golden, like a vengeful feline's. No one could recognise them from the warm brown they were just a moment before.

"So, how is it going over there? Everything's ready, right?"

The darkened room behind the mirror showed a young, muscled boy with a dark cloak covering half his youthful face. The man on our side smiled; he could see both ways, but the people on the other side were only granted his voice. He was omnipotent in the darkness, the strongest shadow still, and time had yet to change that.

"Yes, Commander," the boy from the other side replied, shoulders tense and ready. "Everything is ready for the plan, we just have to wait a bit. The Games start in three months' time, and attacking them just now would probably be fruitless. At least, that's what everyone says here."

The man rubbed his chin with a hand, hummed thoughtfully. "Everyone says that," he remarked, "Yet _you_ don't? You don't think it's too early?"

The boy shrugged. "I dunno," he said, voice genuinely unsure. "We waited this long, maybe we could wait a bit more. I just don't want to miss our chance to get at them- we've worked too hard to lose this opportunity."

The man laughed, high and mirthful. "Ah, truer words have never been spoken," he said, caressing his cheek. "I like you for this, young man. You know the complexities, but don't bother too much with trivialities. It is just what I need for this job."

" _Job_?" the younger boy perked up, leaning forward towards the glass. The man smiled lightly. "You need me to do something, Commander?"

"I do, actually," he replied, voice deep and dreamy. "We shall not attack now, not before the Games- but I want you to travel to Nekoma, within two week's time. You shall go there, and spy on the enemy. We must know our enemies before they know us, and it is a very important task. You are well-loved, but misunderstood by many, boy- do you think you can do this? Do you think you can bet your life and accomplish this job for the greater good of our mission?"

"Yeah, I do," the boy exclaimed, positive. "I can absolutely do this job, believe me! I shall not let you down, Great Commander!"

The man narrowed his eyes, grin in its place. "Promises and promises, young man," he said, chuckling. "Can you give up everything, sacrifice all that you are, and do this? People say many things, but few return their promised word."

The boy on the other side sat straight, jaw set and determined. "I don't go back on promises. I shall do whatever that you ask of me."

"Ah, you promise?"

" I promise."

"Very well then," the man's eyes crinkled, golden orbs glinting victoriously. "Lean closer then, and let us go over the specifics of your job."

  


_/ / /_

  


Kuroo Tetsurou was a noble. 

Yes, he was a noble, and he is well aware of how attractive or glamorous or plain revering his position in society would appear to be in other people's eyes. But trust him when he says that it is all bullshit- complete _bullshit_. He isn't allowed to curse inside the castle- Yaku is the only one who underhandedly gained such privileges, courtesy to training that wayward little brother of his- and the Great King will have his head if he hears him utter such language. Still, Kuroo will insist that leading the life of a noble is pure bullshit, and if he ignored drinking that God-awful herbal-concoction (which people liked to call _tea_ ) every early morning, or trying to protect his ears (in vain) from the cursing of Yaku Morisuke almost daily at all times of the day- even then he would admit that his life as a noble wasn't much pretty. 

Why, you ask? Because they simply _weren't allowed to go outside._

Which sane, twenty-something adults of the magical world were forbidden to travel outside their own homes? The Royal Nobles of Nekoma, of course.

There were exceptions, few and far in between; like his cousin Kai, who was training to be the Foreign Relations Minister to the next King while travelling through all the wondrous neighbouring Kingdoms of Nekoma, and his accompanying brother Fukunaga. Excluding him and a few other sentries, the rest of the Royal Family were supposed to lead their lives safe and happy inside these walls, supposed to live on being ignorant to the presence of a magical new world just outside. Kuroo knew enough magic for his age, had read enough books that kept him awake at night with imaginations running wild; but things weren't the same if he could not see and visualise those things for himself. Those people about whom he read, those places- those workers, those legends; those Statues of Prophecy, those things they called fire-posts and moon-water ponds.. He wanted to see them, see them all; and he wanted to see them now.

 _That_ was his dream.

He wanted to step outside the palace; to see the world, to travel new places and meet new people. He had no intentions to become King, his brothers were far more reliable for that; his dream was different, was forbidden, and it had taken him twenty years to gather the courage to plan this. And a whole one month to gain the support, and execute this plan to perfection.

The Kingdom's throne be damned, his dreams were far more important to him. It was because of this that he was hanging outside his room's window at the moment, trying his best to compose himself to be fearless, when it was a dark night out, and when his exasperated tuition teacher just expected him to study and complete his History lessons on the Ancient Culture of Nekoma by their next meet the following morning.

_One step. two step. Three step._

"Be careful, Kuroo-san," Akaashi whispered in warning. It was a wonder how loud his whispers could be despite his usually soft, low timbre. "If you fall, the guards will get alert immediately."

"Akaashi," Kuroo panted, trying hard not to look at the great depths below. "If I fall, I'll probably _die_. And _that_ should be your main concern right now."

"Oh, I have faith in you," Akaashi shout-whispers. "If you die from this height, you're not the Kuroo Tetsurou I know. He's far too crazy to die in such a way."

"Hit where it hurts the most, huh?" Kuroo grinned painstakingly. "I'll see you when I get back, Keiji."

"I'll wait," Akaashi mocked him, like the most concerned person in the world. "If you fail to return by sunrise, I'm giving you up to the King myself. Or worse, to Yaku-san."

"Yeah, yeah. We'll see about that."

He panted, and took the fourth step down. In all honesty, Kuroo's plan was as simple as it got.

True, it had taken him a month to plan it, but there were several additional factors to consider (like gathering enough courage, for example, and trying to persuade that stubborn friend of his to help him in this). The overall idea of his escape went something like this: on a random, totally unremarkable night (a date which they had planned a fortnight before), Akaashi was going to enter Kuroo's chambers to set things up, and wait for the noble to return from his weekly lessons with Takeda-sensei. Once he did, Kuroo was going to change his clothes, allow himself a simple dinner (that had been Akaashi's idea, totally not his), after which he was going to climb down the towers with a fifty-foot rope ladder, and just, _run_. He was going to run as fast as possible, avoid the guards, jump over the burnt-brick castle walls (he could do it, no sweat), and finally, finally, be _free_.

Yeah, that was most of it. He was still stuck at the climbing-down-the-ladder part (fifty feet was a long height, okay?), but that was all he would do. His return, and safety later depended entirely on his friend.

As Akaashi had reluctantly promised, he would announce to the nobles at dinner that Kuroo was feeling sick, and would turn himself in early. He would keep up his story till early morning, by which time the noble would _absolutely honestly definitely_ return home; and if, just if he was a bit late, the valet would dissuade anyone from entering his empty bedchambers. Akaashi had made him promise to return by sunrise, regardless of whatever happened, so Kuroo only had this one night to experience this excitement, and to see his dreams turn into solid reality.

So, come what may, he was going to enjoy tonight. To roam, and dream. And then keep his word to his bestest friend in the world.

Braving the cold wind and the unsteady flight down, Kuroo's feet finally touched the clayey, uneven ground. The grass underneath felt soft, almost unreal, and grinning to himself, he looked up. At his stubborn best friend in the whole world, who looked down at him from fifty-feet above.

"Thank you, Keiji," he says, voice loud and sincere. Let the whole castle hear his gratitude- he was running already. "Thank you for _everything_. I promise I'll return. Whatever happens outside, I'll come back here- to you."

Akaashi looked small from the ground, a distant figure, face almost indecipherable in the darkness. Kuroo's eyes sifted through the shadows, seeking out his eyes. Akaashi's face was stoic, stonily neutral- yet his eyes spoke volumes, and his lips curled- not in amusement- as he stretched a hand towards the ground, fingers bound in a fist except his pinkie. 

  


_You promise?_

  


Kuroo grinned; Akaashi was far too young for his occupation. Stretching his own hand up, he raised his right pinkie, mouthing the exact words he knew his friend wanted to hear.

  


__

_I promise._

  


With that, the last leg of his plan was in motion. Turning around, lost in the shadows, Kuroo's footfalls carried away with the wind, pitch black cloak swirling high behind his back. With nimble, fast legs, he ran across the courtyard, and reached the towering castle walls. Those legendary walls that never broke, those walls that could brave the wrath of an all-powerful Dragon from the Heavens. Gathering the power within his legs, Kuroo broke into a faster run, and jumped. He jumped, clung at the gaps between bricks, and jumped again. 

He jumped and jumped, soundless with cat-like agility, and jumped till the outside horizon opened sharp in front of his eyes. He jumped, until he was standing tall over the wall, looking out into the kingdom below his feet; cloak blowing out, the Crimson Insignia fluttering behind him from the topmost peak of the castle. His dream was within reach now, the happiness in his heart enough courage for the night, the turning point of life finally in motion.

Kuroo grinned, hazel eyes ecstatic, dark hair ruffling haywire. He stared into the horizon as far as his vision would permit, and brought a fist close to his wild, erratic heart.

Finally, he was here. He was here, standing over his dreams, freedom bound within his fist. Finally, he was here, the change of his life, the flight of his imaginations-and he wanted nothing else. Nothing more, nothing else- not for tonight. Tonight, he wanted nothing else at all.

He jumped.

  


Our story began when the Prince first dreamed, but it took its first flight when he did; when he took the courage, jumped over all societal inhibitions, and fled. Fled from his home, to discover a new one outside. To discover the world that was so close to his, just a breath out of touch. He leapt down the farthest barriers, and ran. And it is from here that his lonesome story intertwines with various others, the turning point not of his life, but of the fate of the kingdom he so faithfully loved.

Things would have gone the same way they needed to; only when the Prince fled, things became a lot more complicated than anyone could have ever imagined. Not the faithful best friend in the world, not the boy with a nightmare, and certainly, not the Prince with a dream.

To him, only his dream mattered. Other things could go around however they wanted to. Thus, he fled- and the magical world opened right under his feet, as did his destiny.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's 24th December at my place, and I hope everyone has a happy holiday season! The next update might be a little delayed, but I hope you enjoyed this nonetheless! :))
> 
> Have a good day/night! See you later :))


	3. New World Strangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo roams around the kingdom- a kingdom where people- things- other than Princes, valets and dreams reside, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, no one can ever blame me to be a quick writer, but I've had a burst of motivation this time, and a long holiday in my hands. Two chapters in one week- this is totally unbelievable, but enjoy this while it lasts! This chapter is long, but I hope you still enjoy this! :))

The thatched roofs of fruit-stalls and jewellery stores blocked the flitting morning sun-rays, specks of cool shadows peppering the cobbled market streets like freckles over stone. The early marketeers of the neighbourhood stalked through with bags in hands, baskets over heads, people buying and selling and plain travelling to their workplace through the building crowd in the Eastern Market of the kingdom. Darkly-tanned Flame-workers returned tired to their homes, their job of vigilance over multi-coloured flames that kept the city alive at night, finally extinguishing with the break of dawn. Their burnt ankles donned thick, golden anklets, the Crimson Insignia scarred deep over their naked chests- and the sight of their homecoming truly marked the beginning of a new day in the ever-alive city.

One by one, windows sprang wide, doors flew open, as a multitude of people and magic folk awoke and got ready for their day. On the other side of the Kingdom, within the vibrant Western Market, the morning scene was nothing different, the shopkeepers and grocery-owners and potion-makers always among the first to wake up and start about their businesses. Thus, even if a traveller saw no commoner on the early streets of Nekoma, a few early-rising shopkeepers could forever be seen setting up their stalls for the day this time around morning.

It is here, in one such early-rising grocery-stalls, towards which our attention is diverted to. It was a considerably flourishing business, the size of the shop and rows and rows of fruit, spices and vegetables piled for sale indicating the wealthy disposition of the shopkeeper. Said wealthy shopkeeper turned out to be a large, flabby gentleman, dressed in a silk cap and white shirt-pants, and a leather belt tight around his soft abdomen, holding a pair of house-keys, and a small grey purse tinkling with coins strapped behind him. 

The man was busy arranging the fruits on display at his shop, rearranging a carton of ruby-red apples, fussing over the number of baby cabbages, muttering something quietly about inadequate leaves in a single broccoli pile. His presence in the Eastern Market was of no big consequence, his actions not very different from the other surrounding shopkeepers. But it is that small, lurking, fiery presence behind his shop, the one whose sights were fixed on the purse strapped to the man's belt, which steals our interest, catching our sight midway within his swift actions.

  


"STOP, THEIF."

  


The flabby shopkeeper yells when his loss is realised, but by then that clumsy pile of young hands and quick legs had ran deeper into the crowding market, tattered black robes bellowing behind his trail. His bright-brown eyes blaze brighter with triumph than his eye-catching mess of flame-coloured hair, thin fingers holding tight onto the small purse that was his belonging now. Without a breath he runs, vicious within the crowd, his destination that small, dark alleyway that hides the largest of rats and ravens. And it is there where he stops, and allows himself a grin and a fresh bout of air.

Pumping his fists high in the air, fingers possessive of their haul, Hinata Shouyou quells down a victorious scream, and looks up at the rising sun in visible gratitude for this morning. A harmless circlet of orange flames erupt at his feet, magic responding to the thrum of energy and excitement running through his veins. Pocketing the purse secure into his robes, Hinata slinks out of the darkness, and walks under the sun and shadows again, looking for the next person off whom he could make another small living.

  


The kingdom of Nekoma was vast, after all- a kingdom full of sights and dreams and many, many people. A place filled with nobles and Princes and valets, yet one abound with outlaws and thieves alike, too.

  
__

_/ / /_

  


"STOP RIGHT THERE," a stern voice resounds through the stacked Library walls. "STOP RIGHT _THERE_ , HAIBA LEV. AND DARE YOU MOVE ONE FOOT OUT OF THIS PLACE, THAN I SHALL HAVE YOUR HEAD TODAY!"

"Y-Yaku-san," a young, panicked voice whispers in defence, "Please don't shout anymore. It's been thirty minutes- even the books are scared now."

The scene inside the Royal library looks somewhat like this: a tall, positive giant of a man stands quivering in front of a stacked table, on the other side of which stands a remarkably short man, chin held high, vermilion cloak flying out in a burst of magic and anger and authority. The large glass windows are open from the inside, allowing in sweet sunlight to play inside the enclosure- but the couple of blackbirds who were singing earlier had flown away from the panes; while the magic emanating wildly from the shorter man compels the trees outside to wrinkle their leaves, and cower their branches in visible fear and submission.

Without a doubt, the shorter of the duo, with short, dark-peachy hair and large brown eyes, was none other than the celebrated oldest noble of the castle- Yaku Morisuke himself. Despite his short stature, clad simplistically in a clear white dress-shirt, dark leather pants, and a vermilion cloak clasped to his chest with a golden Insignia of the kingdom, the noble's stern expression, blazing eyes, commanding voice and spiked magical aura impel everyone in the vicinity to sit alert and listen; and to act against that visage is not a task even his youthful young brother would attempt to accomplish.

"I ALLOWED YOU A STRING OF CHANCES, BROTHER," Yaku Morisuke shouts. "BUT YOU NEVER FEEL THE NEED TO USE THEM WISELY, DO YOU?"

"And I implore you to not _shout_ , three times in a row," the taller man protests weakly, standing his ground despite quivering legs. "Do you want those books to _die_ , Yaku-san?"

An uneasy silence prevails, a moment after which Yaku sighs in apparent defeat, sits down on his seat. On the other side of the table, his younger brother sighs in relief.

  


_Damn his fate; the Demonic Noble was truly, truly scary._

  


Standing well over six feet and a few inches, Lev Haiba looked taller in person, hands rigid, feet frozen, bright emerald eyes sifting through his brother's features to gauge out the remainder of his infamous anger and wrath. Combed, short silver hair parted midway through his forehead, body clad in a similar fashion like Yaku, except for a sapphire-blue shirt and a dark, teal-shaded cloak covering the expanse of his back, regally touching the floor. Tongue peeking out to wet his dry lips, the young noble shifted in his place from one toe to another, waiting impatiently for his bother to break the silence that had held the moment in pregnant despair.

"Lev," Yaku finally said, "Tell me, how many times do I need to explain the importance of studying before you sit down and comply?" He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes in exhaustion. "I understand you like your weapons more than your quills, but if you want to be a distinguished Royal anytime soon, basic education is of utmost importance."

Lev shifted again; ran a hand through his silvery strands. "But I don't _want_ to be a Royal," he stressed, back bending in a bid to carry his point across. "You don't understand me at all, Yaku-san! I get my position as a noble, but I would rather fight in battles than sit idle in the Grand King's court. Taketora-san didn't need to study at all, yet he still fights in the Army. If he can do that, why can't I, Yaku-san?"

"You can't, because you're not of age yet," Yaku replied, annoyed at the fact that his brother had the tendency to idolise the _least_ becoming idols in the Family. "Taketora got in the Army because he was old enough for a soldier, and he had to study for one year too. If you think you can enter battles without the qualifications required for it, then you are thoroughly mistaken."

"Ugh," Lev made a pained, strangled noise, kicking into the ground like a spoilt child. His actions reminded Yaku of a wayward younger cousin quite suddenly. _Too bad he was sick since last night._

"If your arguments are finished," he ordered instead, "Then you better sit down, and complete the essay you've been working on. And," he shot a sharp glare at Lev, who shrivelled under his gaze, "If you ever, ever try to use a Transparency Spell to get out of here _again_ , you shall be done for. Do you understand, brother?"

"Yeah, got it," Lev sat down grumpily across the table, and took up his green quill, twirling it distractedly. He chewed at its end thoughtfully for a minute, and looked down on his absolutely blank sheet of paper in front. No matter how much _basic education_ was required for him to be a noble, he was never going to understand it, not to save his own life. Maybe he was just not cut out to be a noble. Weapons felt cooler in his hands, had felt so forever- even though he had almost cut off his own fingers only two days before. Maybe he was just _that_ bad at basics, is all.

"You know, Yaku-san," he remarked, eyes printed solid over his blank essay. "I think your magic is really, really cool."

"Flattery shall get you nowhere, Lev," Yaku materialised an aural stick within his palm, and beat his brother lightly on the forehead. "Start writing already- I want that essay by the end of an hour today."

"What if I can't finish it? Will you cancel my Warfare classes again?"

A smack of the stick on hair again. "No," Yaku replied, smirking playfully. "You think my magic's cool, right? Fail this essay, and you shall realise what it's like _fighting_ this magic."

Lev lowered his head, started scribbling something illegible. Yaku leaned back into his seat, and took to rereading the highly interesting travelogue he had left somewhere in the middle. His brother reminded him too much of Kuroo to be healthy, but it was just a phase. He had seen Kuroo in his rebellious phase, after all; experienced it side by side with him, played tricks throughout the castle together- and he had been much, much worse than Lev. The fact that Takeda-sensei was even alive today, after trying to tutor the oldest three nobles (in vain) years before, was a wonder. Haiba Lev certainly had the makings of following the third-oldest noble's path, but there was nothing much to worry.

Kuroo would be Kuroo. Despite everything that his brother was, Lev would never be the absolute _terror_ Kuroo had been during his teenage years, wrecking the entire castle up daily, sometime in far history.

Hidden from his brother's eye, Haiba Lev smiled a small, secretive smile.

  


__

_/ / /_

  


"Say, Akaashi," Matsukawa discreetly whispers, "Don't you think things have been a bit quiet recently?"

"Hmm?" _Ah, yes._ "Do you mean the wind, Matsukawa-san?" _It has been hours after sunrise, but Kuroo-san has still not returned. Talk no more about a difference._

Matukawa makes a face, and summons a casket of cloth-clips to himself, taking one for himself, the rest flying towards the valet standing by his side in the sunlit backyard of the castle. "No," he replies, shaking his head as he hangs a wet tablecloth over invisible wires. "I absolutely do not mean the wind, Akaashi, and I do not understand how _you_ can ever mean the wind."

"Ah," _My noble is missing at the moment._ "Then what did you mean, Matsukawa-san?" _Kindly forgive my odd behaviour during such emergencies._

The Head of the Servants leans closer towards Akaashi; lowers his voice. "See," he remarks, looking around to ensure they're not overheard, "Don't you think it's been a long time since Yaku-san yelled at his brother?"

Akaashi blinks. That was unexpected. "I thought I heard him just before," he says, glancing at the sun to gauge the time. "It has only been two minutes since then, Matsukawa-san."

"Yes, yes," Matsukawa nods in agreement, returning back to his chores. "Two minutes is a long time, you know? They have been cooped up in the Library for fifteen minutes straight, with two minutes of unbroken silence. I see suspicious things when I _see_ them, you know?"

Akaashi shifts in his place from on foot to another. He cradles the basket of washed clothes to his chest, and lowers his head. He had volunteered to help Matsukawa-san with the clothes himself, but his worry for Kuroo- who had disappeared last night, conveniently breaking his promise of returning by _sunrise_ \- had been eating up both his mind and concentration. It was a wonder how someone had not yet ventured to stop by his bedchambers and look into the noble's apparently _sick_ disposition at least once. His delayed return clouds Akaashi's mind, along with his attention, and due to this, he feels afraid of people finding out his secret only by his odd, odd behaviour.

Matsukawa Issei-san was as intuitive as a person got, like many others in the castle. It was a wonder how Akaashi had not yet been outed by now.

"Well, you're not quite wrong," Akaashi agrees with a shake of his head. _Concentrate,_ he whispers to himself. "The last time it had been this quiet in the Library, with Yaku-san and Lev-san in that room-"

  


**BOOM.**

  


"-- Lev-san had set off a couple of sparkling Dragon fireworks, that he had stolen from Yachi-san's office." Akaashi sighed, as maids screamed, birds flew, Matsukawa turned at the sound of the explosion, and whistled as multi-coloured smoke now rose from the tower closest to them, coiling through the air like the awakening of a vicious dragon. "I had been stuck cleaning the place for two weeks _straight_."

Matsukawa pats his shoulders sympathetically. "Duty calls you, I guess," he remarks, as Akaashi slowly puts his basket down, and makes little haste to trudge through the courtyard towards the billowing smoke, servants inside screaming their voices to madness. "Thanks for helping me out, Akaashi, but dire times beseech your help today."

Akaashi bows politely to the Head of the Servants. Then he turns, starts walking, and tries to forget that a noble named Kuroo Tetsurou ever existed.

From far, far away (a place that comes nearer as he walks), a loud, frustrated voice booms through the castle.

"OKAY," the voice shouts, timbre hoarse from too much coughing, "WHO IS THAT IMBECILE WHO GAVE LEV ACCESS TO A DRAGON-SMOKE BOMB FROM YACHI'S OFFICE? I KNOW FOR A FACT THAT HE DOESN'T KNOW ENOUGH MAGIC TO STEAL IT ON HIS OWN. DO _NOT_ BLAME ME IF THE CASTLE IS TURNED INTO A BURNING, LIVE CAULDRON TODAY."

  


("Ah, there you go," Matsukawa-san whistles once more, this time in happiness. "Things are looking quite normal again.")

Akaashi Keiji sighs. _Wait till you return, Kuroo-san,_ he curses as menacingly as possible, _We shall sort out our secrets then._

  


__

_/ / /_

  


_Lights._

_Lights, smells, and new new sights. Wherever he looked, something looked unfamiliar; at every whimsical turn, he found himself facing a sight never having faced before. The kingdom was so bright from the inside, warm lights and multi-coloured flames rejoicing as the darkness of the night faded into picturesque clarity. New people, new surroundings; things were totally different than what he had expected, and even after fifteen-long minutes into the nearest bustling Market, Kuroo was as clueless about the land as he had been in the castle._

_The kingdom was an enigma, truly. His heightened magical senses were spiking haywire._

_The world outside the burnt-brick walls was so vast, and so so new. Kuroo let himself get lost in the crowd, indistinguishable among the sea of lively, half-nocturnal masses. People talked gaily, vendors shouted, selling wondrous things the noble had only read about in books; the Feyert trees and their twisted silver branches glowed bright in the moonlight, as a multitude of fumes from Potion breweries filled the Market air. He actually had no idea where he had landed himself in, twenty years of long History Lessons flying right out his mind's blank window; but the one thing he knew is that he loved it here, and that he didn't want to leave. Not really._

_If he had to return to the castle even after one whole week, it would be a return too soon. And he only had one night in his hands._

__

__

_On and on he walked, the garb of a traveller keeping him hidden, a dark hood covering most of his eye-catching, gravity-defying hair. When he had first stepped foot in the city, his mind had sang along the lines of **Oh shit, this is happening. This is actually happening- I'm finally, finally doing this.** He had been in a happy space since then, ecstatic, almost- but fools tend to be careless, and as Akaashi had forever stated, Kuroo had quite the inclinations towards acting like a fool since his early childhood days._

_Thus, when he skipped and twirled along a busy footpath, and unceremoniously bumped heads with a solid, twelve-feet intricate Fire-post (incredible things they were, those Fire-posts), his mind went along the lines of **Shit, I'm a fool**. Subsequently, when the inertia of the collision sent him flying to bump shoulders with a smaller, fellow passer-by, his mind had whispered, **Shit, maybe this is what Akaashi had precisely warned me about.**_

  


"Ah, I'm sorry. Are you alright?" 

  


_Kuroo blinked; shook his head, and looked right up. Under the light of the bright orange flames, the concerned, heart-shaped face of a young man, with dark green fringes, large amber eyes, and a smattering of several prominent freckles over his nose and cheeks stared right back at him. He was dressed in a pale green shirt, with dark baggy pants and a plain yellow belt tied loose around his waist. A pale hand was extended warmly towards him, a hand thin, but sturdy with the experience of an art Kuroo knew nothing about- and without thinking, the noble took that hand in his, and shook it awkwardly._

"Uh.." _he stuttered, then remembered who should be apologising to whom._ "Um, I'm- I'm really sorry! I didn't look where I was going, and just, accidentally-"

"Oh, it's okay," _the boy, who looked only a couple years younger to him, laughed kindly._ "I should've seen where I was going, too. Please don't worry about it."

"Yeah, okay," _Kuroo shook his hand firmly again, and finally released it. The boy glanced curiously at his attire, eyes trailing swift over his dark, sketchy cloak- and Kuroo brought an awkward grin to his face, hoping against hope that he had not messed up his very first meeting with a civilian due to his own foolish clumsiness._

 _The boy smiled politely, a strand of hair sticking straight above his head. A thin length of string hung tight across his neck, a clear pendant hidden partially beneath his robes. From whatever he could remember, Kuroo knew that most magic people in this kingdom donned neck-pieces of such kind that were a symbol of their own magic, and suddenly, he was curious to know what abilities this gentle-looking boy might house within himself. Opening his mouth, he made to say something, anything, which could be considered a friendly greeting from one stranger to another- when abruptly, a second voice called out from the distance, timbre soft and low, beckoning the attention of both Kuroo and the young, freckled boy._

  


"Yamaguchi, let's go."

  


"Coming, Tsukki," _the boy named Yamaguchi exclaimed in reply, waving a hurried farewell to Kuroo. The noble, however, gazed fixated at the person who had interrupted his speech, unfamiliar visage glowing bright in the moonlight, body stark against the shadows of the flame. The din of the Market was there, the hordes and crowds of yelling people still alive and moving- but for him, for one moment, time had come to a standstill. For one moment, Kuroo Tetsurou had been struck blank, hit with a force too powerful and too invisible that he couldn't help but freeze in place and simply stare. The ground upon which he stood had became softer, the darkness darker- but the striking profile of the stranger glowed brighter in the night, more so than any star or flame. And that glow- soft like a firefly's, sharp like a young sword's- had rendered him utterly speechless._

**_In the name of the Grand King, I think I'm the greatest fool in the world._**

_The boy named Yamaguchi and his taller companion had turned their backs on him, started walking forwards. But Kuroo couldn't let them go- let _him_ go; couldn't let them disappear into the sea of masses, far away from his reach. Clenching his fists, shaking out of his stupor, he stepped forward; took a step too many, and did that one thing that Akaashi had repeatedly warned him against. He took a step too many, and probably made the most impulsive- and stupid, and beautiful- decision of his entire life. As if running away from the castle wasn't quite enough._

("Kuroo-san," _Akaashi's voice feels like a dream now,_ "Whatever you do, do not associate with any civilians there. You do not know how people are out there, and I know how stupid you can be at times.") 

_Kuroo cleared his throat, breathed deep._ "Excuse me," _he called out, as the strangers turned back at his voice,_ "Can you- can you guys help me?"

_**Way to go, Kuroo,** his mind sang ominously, **Akaashi is going to skin you alive when you get back.** For him, however, there was no turning back. Not now. Not when the tall stranger with golden eyes looked so beautiful in those glasses._

  


__

_/ / /_

  


"Oh my God, _thank you_ ," Yaku Morisuke coughs, as Akaashi consolingly pats a screeching book that was apparently too scared of dragon-shaped smoke. "Thank you so, so much, Akaashi," he repeats, falling down exhausted on his half-burnt seat. "In the name of the Grand King, I swear I shall murder my brother the next time I see him around here."

Akaashi's lip curls. Gently, he puts the book back in its place, rubbing it once again for reassurance, and looks around. The Library was a mess, disastrously so- covered floor-to-ceiling with multi-coloured sparkles, a stream of smoke still rising out of the glass windows, most of the floors and ceilings burnt down into a half-baked crisp. Dragon-smoke bombs weren't even potentially life-threatening, but to get started on repairing this mess only meant a month of extra work for Akaashi. Yaku-san hadn't been much too frazzled in the ordeal, and the books were mostly safe- so at least _that_ was an apt consolation among this.

Standing in the middle of the uniquely destroyed Library, Akaashi thinks and wonders how in the world Haiba Lev managed to get out from the smoky enclosure, safe and unscathed.

The oldest noble speaks then, having finally recovered from his coughing fit. "I'm really very sorry for what my brother did, Akaashi," his voice cracks with considerable guilt. "Now you have to clean up this mess yet again."

Akaashi's lip curls, for an entirely different reason. "Please, don't mind it, Yaku-san," he bows politely, and sets off to work, grabbing the brush and broom Matsukawa-san had already sent up after Akaashi, in advance. _It's fine,_ he thinks blandly. _I needed a distraction anyways._

"Here, let me help you," Yaku volunteers, rising from his seat and grabbing a pile of books to sort out their places. Akaashi stops in the process of scrubbing the window, and protests.

"Please, don't bother Yaku-san," he says, polite as ever. "I shall see to this task myself. You must be tired- please go rest a little in your chambers."

"No can do, Akaashi," Yaku replies flippantly, flicking his fingers and sending a dozen volumes flying back to their respective shelves. "I know you work to clean Lev's mess every single time, but I have a responsibility on behalf of my brother's actions. I apologise on his behalf- and really, my Manipulation magic will help speed up the cleaning process a lot more."

"Really, though," Akaashi persists, "You don't have to-"

"I shall help you, so say no more on this," Yaku commands once, with a tone of finality, and Akaashi quietens. Turns around, and starts scrubbing the clouded windows again.

"Thank you for your kindness, Yaku-san."

"Don't mention it." 

The sound of flying books and levitating chairs and quills soon fills the room, Akaashi's brush keeping a steady rhythm of his own. "Seriously, you know what," Yaku remarks a minute later, as the valet finally douses the windows in water. "My brother reminds me too much of Kuroo these days. Remember how he used to play so many tricks, and cause so much trouble for Takeda-sensei with me and Kai? I admit we were mere teenagers then, but the younger Kuroo that time was a terror."

"Ah, yes. I do remember." Akaashi laughs lightly. _How can I not? He's still the same now, just a tiny bit quieter._ "He always had a trick up his sleeve, a new idea to test. Kuroo-san back then was a positive hurricane."

Yaku laughs at that too, a nostalgic smile crinkling his warm brown eyes. "Of course you'd remember, you two were joined at the hip when we were kids," he says, gazing happily outside the now sparkling windows. "You were the only one in the castle who could rein him in. My brother, on the other hand-" the noble sighs, a deep, forlorn sigh. "He reminds me of how _uncontrollable_ Kuroo was as a teenager. Lev's almost nineteen, an adult now, but he hardly behaves like one, and causes trouble for everyone in the castle." Another sigh, this time of exhaustion. "I don't know what to do with him, Akaashi. He's always been like this, but since I became his mentor, it's like he's got _worse_."

Akaashi stares at the noble standing with his head down, just a feet away from him. He contemplates his answer quickly, and clears his throat, once. "Yaku-san," he replies softly, "I hope I'm not overstepping my boundaries, but I think you shouldn't worry too much about your brother. Lev-san is an adult, but he is still a child at heart. True, he is mischievous, but he is careful too. He ensures that his tricks don't hurt anyone, and is always considerate towards the servants. Every time he steals things from Yachi-san's office-"

"I _know_ someone _is_ helping him here-" Yaku vehemently seethes.

"-he always treats her to a meal of fresh sweet buns from the kitchen, as an overdue apology." Akaashi smiles, a small, genuine smile. "Lev-san isn't as bad as you make him out to be, Yaku-san. He just needs some time to grow into the fine person he is."

There is silence after that, when Akaashi bows and resumes working, and Yaku Morisuke speculates these words, eyes not straying from the floor. At long last, his hands move to cover his face as he sighs, which are then removed to reveal a happy yet weary face, seemingly matured through and through with years of hardships and struggles and realisation. Raising a brother was a tough job indeed.

"I guess you are right, Akaashi," he admits out loud, as his hand commands down a stubborn chair from the air. "You do give some blinking good advice, honestly. Never expected any less from you."

Akaashi smiles, small and pleased. Contrary to popular belief (the servants'), he did not have only two sets of feelings and facial expressions, and he was actually quite good friends with all five royal nobles (counting out Kai-san and Fukunaga-san, as they were forever travelling), since the time his family had shifted to Nekoma from Fukurodani. He had been just a kid then, intimidated by the new, regal surroundings, a touch bit afraid of the people who looked at him with wide, curious eyes. In the midst of his uncertainties though, a small, strong hand had tore through his darkened vision, and forced him to meet the eyes of the grinning, energetic, third oldest noble of the castle- Kuroo Tetsurou. Hair as astounding as ever, smile as contagious, eyes perpetually teasing and mirthful- Akaashi had been snatched by the hand (literally) into the storm that Kuroo Tetsurou was; surprised, caught off-guard, but excited nonetheless. It was from that time on that he had met the nobles of the castle, and contrary to popular belief, they weren't intimidating at all.

Contrary to popular belief, Yaku-san himself had been a lot rowdier than what the servants and his teachers gave him credit for. Kai Nobuyaki-san always had a calm, peaceful smile on his face, and the book of a foreign country's geography in his hands. Yammamoto Taketora-san was infamous for stealing weapons from the armoury and getting into fistfights with an equally hot-headed trainee-soldier named Tanaka. Haiba Lev-san was younger then, eyes a large, shining emerald, who would stare wonder-struck as Fukunaga Shohei-san juggled bright golden balls, setting up quite a show for his younger brother Lev, and his blood-cousin Inuoka Sou-san.

And then, there was Kuroo; Akaashi had seen him for years, grown up with him. But even now, even today, he had difficulty realising the enigma that the noble truly was. Upset or not, Kuroo Tetsurou was, in Akaashi's eyes, the most special out of all the nobles in the castle. Quite according to popular belief and conceptions (the servants', again), he was the most apt candidate to become King, too. Everybody just knew that he could do it; somehow or the other, he had acquired the faith of the entire Royal Family.

Incidentally though, the noble had very different plans of his own.

"Akaashi?"

The valet startled. "Yes, Yaku-san?" he rebuked himself for zoning out, and glanced at the noble, who stood with hands crossed beside an empty Library table. _Ah, the wondrous Gift of Magic. Rare people are denied the pleasure of it- yet it just had to be me._

"Say," the noble asks concernedly, "I heard that Kuroo was sick last night. How is he now? Is he feeling better?"

Akaashi tensed; it was time for a new stack of lies.

"He's feeling better," he replied, face as neutral as possible, onyx eyes calm. "The exhaustion's still there though, with a mild headache. He said he'd want to rest for the remainder of the day."

"I see," the genuine sympathy in Yaku's eyes stabbed Akaashi's chest with guilt. "You did say he had an upset stomach... But Kuroo's never been one to fall sick so easily, you know? Maybe I should go check up on him." The noble looked at the valet, face eager. "Escort me to his room, will you, Akaashi?"

 _Forgive me, but that would be the worst,_ Akaashi thought, a flash of Kuroo's empty bedchambers flitting quick through his mind. He could not let anyone enter, not let anyone know; least of all Yaku. If _he_ knew how Kuroo had broken more than half of the castle rules and ran away at night, the King might not come to know about it, but there would be Hell to pay, for both Kuroo and his valet.

And then Kuroo's dreams would be shattered. Upset or not, Akaashi could never let that happen.

"Your concern is unparalleled," Akaashi bows respectfully, mind set. "Kuroo-san would greatly appreciate your feelings. But forgive me Yaku-san, I cannot escort you to his chambers. The noble had requested me to see that he remains undisturbed, and I cannot act against his orders."

"Kuroo Tetsurou, and undisturbed?" Yaku grins, blissfully disbelieving. "You have a strange sense of humour, Akaashi. Let's get going now."

The valet stood his ground firmly, hiding the panic behind calm eyes and cool politeness. "I'm afraid it's not a joke, Yaku-san. Kuroo-san has specifically asked me to see that no one disrupts his privacy, and I cannot let anyone enter his chambers. Not even you, Your Majesty."

Yaku's eyes narrowed, brows wrinkling low. Akaashi softly gulped; out of all Nekoma heirs, Yaku-san was the most difficult to fool with words and lies. If Kuroo was an all-rounder, then the oldest noble majored specifically in observation and manipulation. In Akaashi's eyes, he was the _worst_ person who could've ever questioned Kuroo's sketchy disappearance.

Yaku gazed fixedly at him, for a long long moment. His eyes narrowed down further, now in suspicion. " _Disrupt his privacy?_ " he softly remarked, searching Akaashi's expression. "Why, that's as ludicrous as Kuroo could ever get. I'm his brother; surely, he wouldn't mind _me_ visiting him? "

Akaashi lowered his head, astutely silent. Yaku shifted a step, his magic spiking high with something akin to simmering anger and resolution.

" _Take me to him_ , Akaashi," he firmly commanded, a hand at his waist. "The way you describe him, his condition is far worse than mere sickness."

Akaashi stared at the ground, closed his eyes. "Forgive me, your Majesty," he replied, voice cold, heart thundering. "I really cannot-"

A step. Akaashi almost gasped; all of a sudden, the noble was too close to his face. His dark brown eyes peered close to his face, pupils slitting thin, orbs glowing golden. Carefully, he sifted through Akaashi's every hidden lie; the lies he had told not with words, but by mere expressions.

"Is there something else, Akaashi?" his voice was low; soft, dangerously even. "Is there something you're not telling me? Did something happen to Kuroo?"

Akaashi stared at those eyes, glowing angry and magical. _Damn it._ He couldn't move; his feet were pinned down by the entire magnitude of Yaku's aura and presence. 

"There's _something_ , right?" Yaku prodded, at Akaashi's silence. He was too close now; too much to bear. "There's something you're hiding, my friend. Did my brother ask you to keep it quiet? Did he do something? _Tell me_ , Akaashi."

 _No. Don't._ "I-" _Stop, stop. Don't tell him anything._

"I ask you again, Akaashi. _What did he do?_ "

_Don't do it, Akaashi. For Tetsurou's sake. Don't give in to his magic- don't be the one to make Tetsurou cry._

Yaku stepped forward, and Akaashi's feet lifted off the ground, mind blank. _The noble was manipulating him._

_**"I said, tell me."**_

"Yaku-san," Akaashi replied, gasping. His words were not his own, eyes wide, voice desperate. "Kuroo-san- he- he left-"

The closed Library door burst open behind them.

Yaku turned, vermilion cloak falling down to the floor in a wave. Akaashi slumped over the polished tiles, conscience returning the split second he had lost it, the grappling magic disappearing slowly from his mind. The duo looked forward, one confused, one overwhelmed- at the person whose reckless entrance had even shocked the books. The man huffed, panted with his palms over knees; sweaty and breathless, spiky dark hair in that ever-familiar mess, crimson cloak wrapped over a satin-shirt and black leather pants- the third-oldest noble stood grinning at the door, feline hazel eyes burning bright with happiness.

" _Akaashi_ ," Kuroo Tetsurou exclaims, the presence of an older brother in the room almost completely forgotten. "You'd never believe what I did this time!"

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, to all those who did. I hope you shall look forward to the next chapter, and if you liked this so far, then I would love to here your thoughts in the comments! Also, kudos and bookmarks are always appreciated- each of them really just make my day!
> 
> Bye bye, and I wish you all a happy day/night! :))


	4. Se Cuetrar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything about this place screamed _magic_. But as he unceremoniously bumped shoulders with two exiting customers, he realised that there was more to magic than what he knew, too.
> 
> "Fuck," he eloquently remarked, too surprised to be his usual animated self. "This, is impossible."
> 
> "Think again," a cold voice remarked from beside, and Kuroo jumped. " _With magic, you can never guess what's real and what's not._ Aren't you forgetting that yourself, Traveller-san?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter's a bit long, quite description heavy, and the first part of Kuroo's encounter with TsukiYama. It was getting a bit too long, so I had to cut it short, but this chapter had me struggling for the longest time, so I hope it isn't as bad as how I perceive it. I hope everyone still enjoys this and, See you downstairs! :))

The day Royal valet Akaashi Keiji was suspected of lies, hours before, around sunrise, Kuroo Tetsurou found himself aroused from a deep, warm slumber- by none other than a freckled boy with a kind smile, who worked in the most wondrous establishment in all of Nekoma.

The boy offers his surprised self a ruby-red apple, and the sweetest _good-morning_ ever. It was much better than the ones coupled with chaos at the castle, yet he still found himself missing Akaashi's regular, non-expressive greetings.

That day, an hour after sunrise, Kuroo Tetsurou exchanges minimum words with the boy named Yamaguchi, grabs the apple from his hand, and runs back in the direction of the castle as fast as possible. In the end, he's only a couple of hours late into breakfast.

He's quite late, however, in stopping his friend from tangling up in deep trouble though.

  


__

_/ / /_

  


"Akaashi!"

Akaashi walks faster, not bothering to look back.

"Hey, Akaashi! Wait for me!"

The sound of steps follow over dew-studded grass. The valet trudges quickly forward.

"AKAASHI. JUST- STOP."

Kuroo grabs his friend by the shoulder firmly, and turns him around. He pants, sweaty and tired, but Akaashi's face is a mask, and he liked it that way. There were some lines people should never cross, and the noble had just crossed one of them. Like breaking important promises, for example- and acting like a stupid, inconsiderate friend overall.

"Akaashi," Kuroo pants, delivers his words in one tired breath. "Just- _shit_. Just listen to me, okay? Just- let me explain."

Akaashi stares at him, unblinking. "No cursing in the castle, Kuroo-san," he says at length, turning around to walk again. "Someone might hear you."

"Oh, fuck," Kuroo grabs his shoulders again, turns him behind, and keeps him there. "Please, Akaashi, I beg of you. _Do not_ turn away- I really can explain myself. I have a very good reason for being this late, and I need you to listen to it."

Akaashi tries to shrug out of Kuroo's strength, but the noble holds him stronger than the power of his disappointment. More than upset, that is what he was- _disappointed_ in Kuroo. Disappointed in a friend he would have never imagined would disappoint him. Life was pretty funny sometimes- disappointingly so.

The noble's eyes held him in an intense hazel gaze, a look he returned with a blank onyx stare. "You owe me nothing, my noble," he replies in a low, polite voice. "You can do whatever you wish, and I shall do my job and support you however you want. If you'll excuse me now," he tries to leave Kuroo's hold once more, in vain, "then I shall return to my duties. The Library is in a _very_ terrible mess."

If it was possible, Kuroo's gaze intensifies, hazel orbs turning a shade darker. His grip tenses, and Akaashi could have felt the smoulder of his eyes from a mile away. It reeks of fierce emotions, unjustified frustrations, and he steels himself to not be affected by it.

"Akaashi, _do not_ do that with me," Kuroo's voice resembles a poorly-concealed growl. "Do not do that now. I told you, I have a reason for being late, and I need you to know it. You mean more to me than just a valet, and I know you realise that. I made a mistake, Akaashi, but you have to listen to my story too."

"And what shall come out of it?" Akaashi argues, despite his intentions. "Will you go back in time and fulfil your promise? Will you stop being this reckless, and leave the pursuit of your dreams? If I listen to you now and forgive you, shall you never repeat this again?" He stopped, and took a breath before he ran out of air and conviction. "Can you promise me that, my noble? To never do this again?"

The noble stood wordless, crimson cloak washed golden in the sunlight dancing through the courtyard. The darkness in his eyes was wet with guilt, lips drawn thin into a knowing, contemplative frown. His fingers over Akaashi's shoulders loosened, and the valet stepped back, eyes set like stone, abandoned of sunlight under a clear, cave-water spring. He took a step back, and a one step more. Kuroo did nothing to stop him this time, hands limp beside- and somehow, his disappointment only rose at the noble's helpless, despairing silence.

"You _can't,_ " Akaashi remarked with a tone of finality, stepping back and back. "You can't promise me that, and you know it. So it's best if you keep your excuses to yourself, Kuroo-san. Let's just forget this ever happened, and go about our own businesses. Even _you_ would get tired of finding new excuses every time something like this happens, you know?" He turned without preamble, without a proper, formal dismissal, and trudged forward through the grassy, sunlit courtyard, hands clenched tight.

As he walked, head bowed down, an indecipherable pain clouded his mind, choked off his senses. He blinked to dispel it; and when his vision blurred, he closed his eyes, legs unstoppable. He didn't turn back once, didn't look at the face Kuroo was probably making at being left behind. Akaashi knew that expression well, had seen it on his own face in the mirror countless times before- but somehow, the thought of Kuroo feeling that loneliness made him too sad for words. For one reason or another, he was reminded of each and every incident where they had gotten into trouble because of Kuroo's recklessness; reminded of every broken promise, every lonely afternoon, every single time in their childhood when he had felt he didn't matter as much to Kuroo as the noble mattered to him. The noble had been a _terror_ when younger, but he used to be equally punished for that. And more often than not, Akaashi would take his side, serve equal parts in his punishment, only because he hadn't wanted to stay away from the noble. Because he had not wanted Kuroo to be lonely.

  


**(** _You don't know how much it hurts to have someone force your mind, Kuroo._ Akaashi rubbed his face on his sleeve, walking mechanically. **)**

  


Growing up though, it seems that the noble never had such emotions towards his valet. He wasn't too inclined towards pranks now, but his ideas were more adventurous than ever. Dangerous, and more reckless. Akaashi had been privy to his forbidden dreams since long ago- and he had known that if Kuroo ever managed to get out, Akaashi wouldn't be able to join him. He wouldn't leave the castle without explicit permission; he couldn't. He knew he had to let Kuroo go then, let his friend explore the world alone; but maybe Kuroo loved his dreams more than Akaashi's support. The noble was a surprisingly kind person at times, his actions more genuine and touching than all of his messy manners and teasing, clumsy attitude. Still, perhaps, Akaashi didn't deserve his kindness. He didn't deserve his consideration, or promises, or anything for that matter. He had always supported Kuroo, would always still- but maybe the noble didn't really need it. Not now; not when his dreams had already been achieved.

His pace increased, hands tightening into white-knuckled fists. The sun shone over his wet lashes; maybe Kuroo didn't need him enough. For the first time since morning, Akaashi's sadness rose higher than his disappointment; and like a wave, it crashed over his conscience, rendering him speechless inside and out.

A pair of strong, toned arms wrapped him in a hug from behind.

Akaashi stilled. The grass around them rose in unison, as Kuroo's magic washed over the courtyard in a humongous wave of care and regret.

"You're right. It's totally true," the noble spoke softly, gently nestling his head over Akaashi's shoulders. They were standing back-to-chest, and though he couldn't see his face, Akaashi knew what Kuroo looked like at the moment. Had seen it a rare couple of times before. "I can't promise you not to do this again, because I'm a jerk like that. I know how big of a jerk I am, and though I can't change it, I can still apologise. I _want_ to apologise. I'm sorry, Akaashi. I'm sorry I broke my promise, and that I hurt you. You had to lie because of me, you had to bear so much pressure- Yaku even used his magic on you. He's a bigger jerk than I am. I'm sorry for letting you go through all that. I can't give you my word, my promises that become lies every time I break them- but I can give you the truth, now. I can give you my honesty, my apology, and all I need is your permission. Please give that to me, Akaashi, just this once. I won't ask for it again."

Akaashi breathed in, deep. His lashes were still wet, but the air smelled too much like sunlight and Kuroo.

"You don't need my permission in anything," he said, testing Kuroo's words. "You're a noble, you can do whatever you want."

The noble hugged him tighter. "I'm a noble yes, but not yours. I'm just a stupid, jerky friend to you. Besides, I didn't choose to be born this way, you know?"

 _I am glad you were born this way._ "You're too reckless to be a noble, Kuroo." _This way, at least I got to meet you._

"So, do I have your permission? To reveal what stupid things I did last night?"

"Okay," Akaashi whispered, with a small nod of his head. "Tell me what you did last night."

__

  


_/ / /_

  


_"Excuse me, can you guys help me?"_

  


Honestly, Kuroo doesn't know what made him say that. Sure, he had had his share of bad decisions in his life, quite a lot of them, actually- but sometimes, lines just cross. This time around, he had crossed the line for how bad he could be with his decisions, and before he could regret or rectify it, the strangers had turned to look at him quizzically, and the face of the tall, blonde guy looked strangely endearing with confusion.

So thus, even if he had a last, last chance to rectify it, Kuroo chanced a glance at the unfamiliar face, and decided to go through with the bad decision anyways.

The boy called Yamaguchi stared at Kuroo for a moment, then shared a look with his partner. The look was like the ones he often shared with Akaashi himself; these two were obviously very close friends (Kuroo hoped they were not closer). Hesitating lightly, the freckled boy stepped forward, and with a warm, inquisitive smile, asked, "Yes? How can we help you?"

"Um," Kuroo glanced awkwardly at the guy, eyes flitting between his smile and the small frown that graced the tall guy's lips. A hand flew to his nape; he was nervous as _heck_. "I'm-" he took a deep breath, and decided that nervousness didn't really suit him. He smiled amicably now. "I'm sorry, this might sound terribly strange, but I'm kind of new here. I know absolutely nothing about this beautiful city, and am totally hopeless with directions. I know you guys are probably getting delayed in your work, but if you don't mind, could you like, give me some directions or something? Recommend good places to visit, or eat out and stuff? It would be a great help, really."

He chanced a discreet glance at the taller guy, and gulped self-consciously when he saw the most delicate, pissed-off expression mar his face. Delayed or not, he certainly didn't appreciate Kuroo's presence, and the noble swears even Akaashi couldn't pull off that mind-blowing, polite-annoyed look. However displeased his expression though, Kuroo couldn't help but stare at his eyes not nearly hidden behind rectangular, lacquer-framed glasses; those narrowed orbs, bordered with delicate pale lashes, were a transfixing swirl of brown and golden, freckled with multicoloured dots of lights reflecting off the surrounding flames. Contradicting the warmth of the colour, those eyes analysed Kuroo's cloaked form with an icy glare, certainly not happy with whatever they derived. Kuroo gulped again; this guy was certainly harder to crack than his open-smiled companion.

"Of course we'd like to help you," Yamaguchi's voice brought him back from the self-induced stupor. The freckled guy had a concerned, determined look on his face. "You're new here, I can totally imagine the trouble you might have gone through by now. The city is beautiful, but it's difficult to cope up if you're new." He smiled kindly. "Did you shift here recently? Or are you a traveller, sir?" 

Kuroo laughed, hand flying up to mess with his hair. "Oh, I'm a traveller, actually. But I guess I'll be around here for long, so. I thought it'd be better if I knew the local joints and places and stuff."

"Oh yeah, you definitely should," Yamaguchi nodded, the strange strand of hair still sticking straight over his head. "And of course we'd like to help you. If you want, you can join us- Tsukki and I were just roaming, and we'd gladly show you around-"

"Yamaguchi," the taller guy from behind abruptly interrupted them, and _fuck_ , it seems like Kuroo wasn't going to get over his voice anytime soon.

Yamaguchi turned over his shoulder to glance at his companion, who gave him a half-glaring look. Just by that, Kuroo knew something was up.

"Oh," a crestfallen look of realisation passed Yamaguchi's face, and he turned to look at Kuroo with a genuinely sad expression. Kuroo's attention was captivated mostly by Yamaguchi's companion, but that despairing look made his heart twinge a bit too. "I'm sorry, I totally forgot. We have to get back to work soon, and any other day would've been just fine.." He looked genuinely sorry, and Kuroo couldn't help but marvel at the concern he showed for a total stranger. "We're just, _really_ understaffed today, so we need to go back. I wish we could've helped you, sir, but- We really don't have the time. I'm so sorry."

Kuroo stared at him a bit dumbly, then nodded. Behind him, Yamaguchi's taller companion sighed in relief, while the noble's heart sank a little like a stone in a river. Before Kuroo's disappointment could show on his face though, Yamaguchi's eyes brightened like stars, a look of pure inspiration crossing his features.

"Oh, I know!" he exclaimed excitedly, as his friend stared. "You could come with us- to our cafe, I mean! You could join us on our way to work, and we could show you around a bit then. There are lots of places to see around there, and if you want, you could come in and have a look at our cafe, or have a meal or something, 'cause we have really good food there too! What do you say, Tsukki? If you're comfortable, mister, then let's go."

Before _Tsukki_ could've formulated a reply, Yamaguchi's smile had sealed the case. Kuroo stared at dumbly at the guy; and then nodded, in assent. He really couldn't figure out whether to feel happy about the turn of events or not; one one hand, the freckled boy's help and consideration had definitely scored him points in Kuroo's _List of Absolutely Awesome People in the World_. On the flip-side though, Yamaguchi's companion didn't seem very happy to be showing a sketchy stranger around town at night. Kuroo gazed as the taller boy's face morphed from pure mortification (that was an interesting expression) to vile annoyance, then into accusation (definitely towards Kuroo) and finally into a supreme, blank-faced resignation. It was interesting to note how two polar opposite people could have ever tolerated being friends, even such close ones at that- but the same could be said for him and Akaashi. If his bestest friend in the world could have survived the regular disaster Kuroo was, then maybe this blonde guy could handle being around the potential angel of _his_ best friend.

(He really, really hoped these two were not closer than that.)

"Come on. Let's get going, we're late already," Yamaguchi turned, beckoning Kuroo into their group of two. With great reluctance, his friend also turned, not sparing a single glance to their additional companion. "By the way, what's your name, Mister? If you don't mind me asking. It'd just be easier to refer to you that way."

Kuroo gulped. The nobles had never left the castle, never been allowed to, so the people of the city were not really aware of their identities. Or their names. He wished he had asked for substitute names or pseudonyms from Akaashi before coming here, but the valet had told him off about talking with strangers altogether so, there was that. Kuroo was still an idiot.

"Kuroo," he replied without thinking much, hoping against hope that the civilians were as ignorant about the Royal Family as he had been about them his entire life. "It's Kuroo Tetsurou, and I'm really very glad for your help tonight, sirs."

"Please don't mention it," the boy with a heart-shaped face laughed cheerfully. "I'm Yamaguchi Tadashi, and this is my friend Tsukki. Tsukishima Kei. it's really nice to meet you, Kuroo-san."

_Tsukishima Kei._

"Likewise," Kuroo smiled, shoulders relaxed, tensed mind and body finally slipping into their own comfortable skin. He attempted a smile at Tsukishima, trying his charming best (the people at the castle always told him he was too charismatic to be true); but the boy turned his face away, and gave nothing but a small, barely-there nod. Not fool enough to mistake it for shyness, Kuroo looked around the shops, at the people and the vibrant residential houses, making a show of looking like he had never been more comfortable before. Yamaguchi walked along gaily between them, as the three advanced deeper into the Market.

Distracted or not, the noble did not miss the sidelong, sceptical glance Tsukishima Kei threw at his direction from across the street.

  


(To those who are confused (don't worry, Kuroo himself still is), the reason this random stranger called Tsukishima attracted him so much was this: _it could not be described._ No, he was being very serious; it was _inexplicable_. Contrary to every glance that he had spared at the guy, it had to be admitted that he wasn't like, too good-looking or something. He had cropped, curly golden hair, pale skin, thin arms, and an overall lean, lanky build. And he wore glasses. The only thing that was remarkable about him was his height (he was a couple inches taller than Kuroo, and Kuroo was usually a head taller than most people he knew). So no, his looks weren't what had the noble so attracted to him, nor was it his height, remarkable though it was. It was something else, something else entirely, and the noble didn't know how to describe it enough with words.

First, there was something inexplicable about his voice. Yes, he is sure; there was something in the way he spoke, calm and concise, and there was something in the way his sharp, cold timbre sounded in the night air, surrounded by the absolute cacophony of the Market. There was something about his presence, about his aura; Kuroo didn't sense a particularly strong magical aura from him, but there was something quiet about him. Something mysterious. In the way he stood, in the way he walked; in the way he glanced snidely at Kuroo as if he couldn't see him looking. The quietness he exuded was like one at the depth of a bottomless lake; the beauty that was there, subdued and buried, yet intertwined with every cold breath that left as smoke through his nose and lips. It was a beauty that couldn't be seen, a quietness that couldn't be heard; and yet it was there, and yet, strangely, it attracted Kuroo more as much as he tried to walk away from it.

The boy was a stranger, but he felt like a wonder. Too much like one. Kuroo had seen several wondrous things in his life within the castle, but inexplicably, he wanted to see another once more. See it unravel with his own eyes, under his own tanned fingertips. That was all the reason he needed to follow two strangers into the heart of a strange, wondrous city. _That_ , and the fact that it felt like an exciting thing to do.

Yes, he was a fool like that. He _knew_.)

  


__

_/ / /_

  


"And _that_ is the Imperial Stadium," Yamaguchi pointed over the heads of the crowd towards the huge rounded walls situated far away. "That's where the Grand Magic Games are held every year. Many people say that the Statues of Prophecy appear on top of it, in a circular row. I've never seen them, but it must be pretty amazing."

"Wow," Kuroo marvelled, truly impressed at the ancient, majestic sight. Takeda-sensei had taught him so many things about the Imperial Grounds, though he had forgotten most of them tonight. "It's truly _awesome_."

"Yeah," Yamaguchi nodded, then smiled awkwardly. "Sorry we can't get a closer look, we'd have to stray a lot from our path then. When you have time later, you could go see it from near, Kuroo-san. It's closed all year, but it's really beautiful from the outside."

Kuroo nodded, hazel eyes not straying from the huge, oval-shaped battleground standing tall in the distance as they went on their way. They had been fifteen minutes into their journey, and out of all the things he had witnessed on the way (like breweries, for example, which sold little Vanishing potions; also rows and rows of tiny gold flakes that were actually the best feed for migratory pets), the stadium had been the best of them all- up till now. Walls made of thick, white burnt bricks, topped over with caricatures of gold and metal, a hundred and one giant doorways leading in and out of the place- the stadium stood at a height of seventy long feet, enough to hold a crowd of over two thousand people inside. It was _brilliant_.

Every year, Kuroo heard fascinating stories of battles and performances and magnificent fairs and parades organised by people from all over the world; the Games were an integral part of Nekoma's culture and history, and the core and essence of their legends as well. Legends of winged warriors and Sky-breaking dragons; of demons and rebels and valiant young soldiers. Of a King who had been too brave to be human, yet whose death had been too abrupt to be a King's. Confined or not, the folklores had been the same within and beyond the castle walls, and after years and years of dreaming, Kuroo was finally able to see it. He might not have a chance to see the Games, not ever in his life; but now he had a place to imagine them in, a place he wasn't going to forget in a hurry.

He had his own recklessness, and his bestest friend in the world to thank completely for that.

"Say," he inquires, feet skipping lightly over grey cobbled streets. "Do you believe in the Statues of Prophecy at all, Yamaguchi?"

The freckled boy hums thoughtfully; cocks his head to one side. "Well, I don't know," he replies finally, shrugging. "It's largely a myth, of course. People say they appear on the last day of the Games, when the stars align perfectly above to give us a glimpse of the future ahead, for one small moment." He brings a hand to his chin, and shakes his head. "But it doesn't happen every year- only on very special occasions. All I've heard about them are the stories. Some say that they appear when a great trouble is to cloud over the Kingdom; some even say that they appeared eighteen years back, when the Great Dragon tore through the skies, and strife broke out within Nekoma. I was really small then, so it's hard to remember anything. I don't think the idea's completely false though."

"Yeah, me too," Kuroo nods, looking back at the stadium behind. "I mean, wouldn't it be cool if we got to know what would happen in the future, even if it's a big trouble or something? At least we could be prepared for it, you know?"

"Yeah," Yamaguchi laughs."I think it'd be a grand sight if they appear again. People say the statues are usually of those who shall play an instrumental role in the future of the Kingdom. Eighteen years ago, the statue of a small, young boy with large black wings had appeared over the walls, and he was the one who had helped in defeating the Dragon, saving this land from destruction."

"Oh, I know that story! Isn't it the one about the Little Giant, who disappeared after defeating the Dragon? I was a big fan of the story as a kid."

"Me too," Yamaguchi nodded, then turned to the side, glancing at his friend who had been quiet throughout their conversation. For the whole of their journey, in fact. "I actually kinda believe in those stories, but Tsukki here doesn't think that the statues are real. He's of the firm belief that anything that could allow us a glimpse of the future would bring nothing but trouble for the people."

"Oh yeah?" Kuroo glanced at the tall guy from behind Yamaguchi. "But it could be true despite bringing trouble, you know? With magic, you can never guess what's real and what's not."

"That's well said," Yamaguchi smiled, filling up the glaring silence that was his friend's response. Kuroo still couldn't see his half-hidden pendant. "I apologise, Kuroo-san- Tsukki isn't too big on socialising, so he can come off as a bit cold around new people."

"Oh, please don't worry about it," Kuroo waved the apology, keeping his feelings at bay. "I apologise myself for interrupting you guys."

They chatted lightly for a while, but a strange frustration was brimming under Kuroo's cool, amicable exterior. The boy felt like a wonder, yes- but he was clearly stubborn, and astutely quiet. He wanted to get closer to him, to know more about him, but that would only be possible if the guy actually _responded_ in return. Kuroo could be a pretty stubborn guy himself- Akaashi had complained about that several times before- and on other occasions, he would have gladly conducted one-sided conversations to annoy the other person enough into breaking his silent streak and finally replying back, albeit with frustration. He could have done that here, but this was not an _other occasion_ \- not a situation where he could easily let himself play the part of a borderline idiot to ensure that the other person would talk. No, this was different; this was a time where he had to appear interesting, or at least sane enough to pique the quiet guy's interest; but clearly enough, random travellers with direction problems did not seem his type, and even his angel of a friend had given up on his socialising skills completely.

It was a dire situation, and _these_ called for dire measures entirely. To be annoying it was, then.

"So, do you-"

"From where are you?"

"Huh," Kuroo blinked, dumbstruck. Had the guy actually talked? Without any prompting? Had he actually heard that soft voice seek out his own self's attention without the forcing of the best friend in between? Had he really spoke, or was Kuroo's imagination running away with him again? "Pardon?"

"I asked," the guy turned, looking at him with a non-pissed (or maybe neutral) facial expression for the first time during their journey, "From which Kingdom are you? You're a traveller, but you must have come from somewhere."

Kuroo's mind went blank. "I-" he stopped, then turned to stare at his feet.

Even without seeing them, he felt Tsukishima's eyes narrow down in suspicion.

"Kuroo-san?" Yamaguchi asked, questioning his silence. "Are you alright?"

"I- uh," he looked up, and stopped short again. Akaashi's voice flew fleeting through his mind: _Don't be a fool, Kuroo-san._ He closed his eyes, and gulped. Akaashi's voice flew through his mind again, albeit a younger version of that polite, icy-cool voice, and he internally winced. 

He was so _fucked_. He shouldn't have done this; he shouldn't have ran away from the castle in the first place.

Kuroo opened his eyes. Turned, and looked at Tsukishima, whose lips had curled a little in distaste, eyes narrowed still.

"What?" the blonde boy remarked, voice wet with sarcasm. "Did you forget your own Kingdom, Traveller-san? Or are you confused on which one to choose?"

"Tsukki!" Yamaguchi hissed, startled. "What are you-"

"Or did you travel so much that it got jumbled up?" Tsukishima smiled, an eerie, sarcastic smile. Or rather smirked. On his pale, beautiful face, that smirk fit in more than his otherwise neutral expression. "Perhaps you don't want to share it. You seem to have some good secrets yourself, so sorry for imposing." His voice wasn't sorry at all, and under the layers and layers of panic maybe six-feet deep, Kuroo felt something else bubbling under his skin.

He was _pissed_. The boy felt like a wonder, but Kuroo wanted to show him who between them was better at provocation before he set out to unravel his mysteries.

Akaashi's voice echoed through his head yet another time. Two different versions spoke together in confusion, in unison, and for the first time in his life, Kuroo decided to heed to with the younger voice's advice.

"You're absolutely correct," Kuroo remarked, an angelic smile on his face. "Everyone has secrets, more than they'd like to admit. I was just wondering if I wanted to burden people as kind as you with secrets as unseemly as mine."

Yamaguchi stared between them two, and paled when he saw the annoyance make a comeback on Tsukishima's face. "Oh really?" the guy inquired before his friend could deter him. "Then you certainly have nothing to worry about- we like hearing secrets as much as we prefer to hide them."

 _We'll see about that._ Kuroo's eyes narrowed; his smile did not. "Shall you ask it again then? In a bid for me to answer your question?"

"I would rather not," Tsukishima glared at him. "But since you insist- where are you from, Traveller-san?"

" _Fukurodani_ ," Kuroo smiled. "I daresay you shall find my homeland as fascinating as yours', Tsukishima-kun. And you can call me Kuroo- I think we're past such formalities by now."

Tsukishima's eyes widened, just a fraction. Then he scowled, and turned his face the other way. Kuroo smiled again, this time in victory. Between them, Yamaguchi Tadashi wondered what exactly had gone wrong on his evening today.

  


__

_/ / /_

  


**(** "Kuroo-san, pray _enlighten_ me- why in the world did you tell them you were from Fukurodani?"

"Well, what was I supposed to do? That guy asks me where I'm from, and only Kai has ever given some serious thought to Geography around here. I couldn't tell him I lived in the castle- and then I remembered you had told me your home was in Fukurodani, when we were kids-"

"I wish I hadn't. You're surprisingly bad at Geography- what if he had pressed you for more information?"

"I'd have been _fucked_ ," Kuroo smiled as his friend turned to glare at him. "Relax Akaashi, he didn't ask anything else. He was too upset for that, I guess. I'll have to read about Fukurodani a lot from today, to avoid something like this from happening again."

"Why, though? It isn't as if you're going to go out _again_ -"

"Akaashi, I haven't finished. Just keep on listening, okay?" **)**

  


__

_/ / /_

  


"Here we are! Welcome to Se Cuetrar, Kuroo-san!"

Kuroo thought carefully about the long, slightly amazing, slightly heated journey they had undertaken through the Western Market, to reach their destination half-shrouded in shadows, half-bathed in multicoloured lights standing right in front of them. It looked like a cafe, no doubt- and though he had heard of them to be small, he was sure they weren't supposed to be _this_ small. The tiny old door was made of worn-out sandalwood, dangerously rickety on the hinges, with a couple of similar rickety windows shut closed from the inside. The not-so-huge cafe was made entirely of pale-green, half-burnt bricks, with a small uneven chimney over its brown-tiled roof, while dozens and dozens of flowering weeds crept up the walls comfortably. The cafe was located at the heart of the Market, inside a little alleyway filled with cobwebs and fat, vicious cats, and Kuroo stared.

For the umpteenth time this evening, he contemplated whether running away had been the best decision of his life or not.

More than a cafe, the building looked like an abandoned house somebody had left half-made in the middle of an overgrown garden of weeds. Its doors and windows were slightly misshaped, and the plasters of the chimney were coming off; it looked as if the whole building was held up with magic, and it looked like any other sad thing in the world- _anything_ that was not a decent, magic-folks' _cafe_. Kuroo stared; he might have grown up inside a castle, but even _he_ knew that something like this could not be called a cafe. It really wasn't possible.

There was a cloud-shaped wooden placard placed in front of the door. In rusty golden letters, it read: _Se Cuetrar- Open_. He stared some more.

_This is- so stupid. I am so, so stupid._

He pointed despairingly towards the door. "Are you sure-" he stuttered, frozen. "Are you sure we're at the correct pla-"

"Let's go."

Yamaguchi side-stepped his frozen self and made for the door, Tsukishima following quietly behind. Kuroo stared as the tall guy bent almost half his height to fit through the entrance, and without a backward glance, the duo disappeared into the cavehole of the building.

Kuroo closed his eyes. _Breathe._ Opened them again. _Do not panic. Just- don't. And don't cry too._ He shook his head, and walked towards the door. _It will be alright. Beautiful or not, many people live in poverty in this country, it isn't anything to be surprised about. They are nice people, good people, and I should go inside. Check things out, not panic, and see if he can help them. It's obviously no castle, but to expect something like that would be ludicrous._

He walked up to the door, and stopped. His heart was beating erratically.

_Do it_ , someone whispered inside his head. _Do it, don't be afraid. People can actually pass through this door, it's not too small. No, don't panic- and absolutely don't cry. It's okay, just-_

Before he could think anymore, he opened the door. And before he could register bending down and stepping inside, a whole new _sight_ slashed open in front of his eyes.

"Ah, there you are," Yamaguchi's voice floated from somewhere back in the densely crowded room. "Please have a seat, Kuroo-san. Sorry, we're really short-staffed today, but I'll be joining you shortly."

Kuroo stared, like he had been doing too much for the last ten minutes. This time though, he stared not because of dread, but because of absolute, genuine surprise.

  


_Shit- where in the world am I?_

  


He was standing near the entrance of a large, spacious enclosure decorated with rows and rows of soft golden lights above. The floor was tiled with white marble, polished and clean, while the previously rickety windows were shining from the inside, pale blue and pink curtains decorating their grills. All throughout the circular _cafe_ , around ten pairs of circular tables and two adjoining chairs each were placed at random; places for the customers, of which almost every one was occupied by a hungry patron or two. There was a long counter at the end of the room, in front, behind which he saw Yamaguchi don the white frilly apron he had summoned from the hangers just behind. The place, though small, had a soft, warmly cosy feel to it, a place people would like to visit twice or more in search of food and peace and comfort; it was definitely not large enough to fit inside the sad excuse of a building he had seen just outside, and Kuroo didn't quite understand how this haven actually fitted into that sad excuse of a building he had seen just outside.

Everything about this place screamed _magic_. But as he unceremoniously bumped shoulders with two exiting customers, he realised that there was more to magic than what he knew, too.

"Fuck," he eloquently remarked, too surprised to be his usual animated self. "This, is impossible."

"Think again," a cold voice remarked from beside, and Kuroo jumped. It was none other than the golden-curled, bespectacled boy, who looked narrowly at him with calm golden eyes, lacquer-framed glasses flashing under the pale softlights. " _With magic, you can never guess what's real and what's not._ Aren't you forgetting that yourself, Traveller-san?"

"No, I'm not." he quipped instantly, defensive. "I'm just... a little surprised. This is a _beautiful_ place."

The guy shrugged lightly. "It shows," he pointed to his face, which Kuroo knew looked as ridiculous as much surprised he was. "Most people are surprised the first time around, but _you_ look like you've never seen a cafe before."

 _I haven't,_ Kuroo thought. Not that he needed to know that.

"Tsukki, help me out please!" Yamaguchi shouted from behind the counter, in the process of handing over a plateful of muffins to a customer with a big toothy smile. "Hanamaki-san's still in the kitchen, and I need someone to finish the decorations on the cookies. Come quick, please!"

Tsukishima nods in his direction. He glances sidelong at Kuroo, who had been staring at the counter. "Sure you wanna stay?" he says, as Kuroo turns to look at him. "This place could get dangerous if too overcrowded." He glanced pointedly around their noisy surroundings, and Kuroo folded his arms over his chest, eyes glinting amused. This guy could be annoying, but he was still strangely cute.

"Are you kidding me?" he smirked, locking eyes with Tsukishima's own. "I would stay here even if it was totally empty."

The golden-curled boy scowled. "As you wish. Suffer then."

Kuroo whistled at the venomous tone of his voice, finding himself the most intrigued by a person in months. "Can I help you out with anything?" he shouted as Tsukishima made his way towards the counter. "I'm clueless with directions, but people say I'm not a half-bad cook."

The guy glanced back, standing a head tall over the humming crowd. "Stay out of my business," he coldly stated, voice soft, "and don't bother Yamaguchi. That'd be enough help for now, Traveller-san."

"Hey, you don't have to-"

Before he could finish, Tsukishima had disappeared among the heads of customers, only to reappear at the counter again. Kuroo sighed. _I told you not to call me that._ He uncrossed his hands, and looked around the cafe. Almost all the seats were occupied, but he could spy a lonesome empty chair at one corner of the room. Pushing and fighting, he made his way through the crowd, the smell of mead and baked delicacies filling up his nostrils, mind secretly thankful for the pouch of gold he had brought with him just in case. He sagged down on the seat, exhausted and exhilarated, and looked up at the soft golden lights on the ceiling.

The lights were nothing but tiny, floating orbs of fairylights, twirling to and fro in the air on their own dreamy whims. The noble smiled; dreamy or not, those lights distantly reminded him of a golden pair of eyes he had hopelessly found himself drawn towards.

 _Akaashi, I might be a fool- but this is the best night of my life._ He leaned back, and closed his eyes. He would wait till the place got a bit less busy, and then go talk to those guys again.

As his vision darkened, the sounds of the world around came alive; the whistles of burning wood, the aimless chatter of friends and families and heartbroken lovers- the curses of a sour-faced employee who cut his hand in the kitchen inside, and the laugh of Yamaguchi as a random girl praised the ruby-red cherries she got only from this place. The sounds and voices merged into a whole cacophonous serenity, his mind delving deep between the bridges of consciousness; and even with his enhanced hearing, Kuroo couldn't make out the voice of the person he wanted to hear the most. Tsukishima Kei was quiet, quiet in this place among his colleagues too, and Kuroo smiled; maybe it was just in his nature to be quiet. Maybe on their journey before, he had not talked not because he disliked Kuroo, but because he din't really care enough to.

He smiled yet again. Even though he looked stellar in the moonlight, Tsukishima Kei looked beautiful when he smirked under the golden soft-lights of this cafe, too.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Writing Kurotsuki is too d i f f i c u l t. ugh, I dunno how people write such good stories about them everyday...
> 
> Well, I hope everyone liked this. As always, updates may be erratic, but I shall stick by this story! Comments and kudos keep me hugely motivated :)))
> 
> Also, HAPPY NEW YEAR 2020!! I hope everyone has an AWESOME, AMAZING, SUCCESSFUL YEAR!!!!! As for the time being, I hope everyone has a great day/night! Bye bye~ :))


	5. Intrigue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo gulped. Perhaps, to get closer to this guy, he could risk a few more bad choices too.
> 
> "So," he started, taking a tentative glance around. "Do you come here often?"
> 
> Tsukishima's eyes narrowed. He always had that light pissed-at-the-world look going. "I don't think I should tell you," he replied tersely, shoulders defensive. "It's really none of your business."
> 
> (Or, the third oldest noble wasn't as stupid as he looked (he was _more_ ), Tsukishima wasn't a fool, and Tanaka's only wish is to get back the thirty-something swords Lev had stolen from him in the last three years.)

At one side of the immense courtyard, abound with fresh, dew-studded grass, the noble and his valet stood conversing. On the opposite side of the lawn, two formally dressed soldiers, armed ready with long spears and a heavy shield each, strolled along the grounds, completely unaware of the royal presences nearby. They had their own problems to sort out, their own stories to live; and as curious, purely pure readers, let us spare a glance at a snippet of their lives too.

  


_"Ah, Tanaka, Nishinoya! Have you guys seen Lev? Kuroo said he saw him the Kitchens this morning."_

  


"I wonder why Yaku-san thought his brother would be hiding in the Kitchens," the taller, noticeably bald soldier remarked curiously, feet marching straight over the grass. "Lev-san avoids that place more than he avoids the Library, except when he wants to steal buns for Yachi-san."

"Ah, Ryuu," his shorter, fox-eyed companion shook his head wisely, patting his friend on the back. "The habits of the Royals are something we shall never comprehend. It's better if we just stick to our own businesses, and continue doing what we do the best- FIGHTING!" The guy gave a sudden jump at that, unpredictably (or predictably, considering his strange renown throughout the castle), and his companion did not even wince as sparks and bolts of lighting erupt from his feet like whips, crackling and hot, burning most of the grass around them to a crisp.

The taller soldier looks up forlornly at the vast, cloudless sky. He was tired, plain exhausted from the cards his life had dealt him with repeatedly for the last three years. "In the last three years," he lamented softly, "Lev-san has not returned a single weapon that he stole from my armoury when I was sleeping." He looked down at the burnt crisps of grass, and sighed. "I know the Royals are strange people, but that doesn't mean my weapons are for free. I have to _pay_ for each of them, Noya-san."

"Yeah," his companion nodded agreeably. "Yaku-san thinks so too. _He's_ a good one. But let bygones be bygones, my friend!"

Tanaka Ryuunosuke sighs, deciding that no one except him would ever come understand his woes. Not in this life anyway- maybe except for Taketora; that guy was his soul-brother only coming from some other family. Who knew what diabolical activities Lev might have done to his swords already? Standing tall and sad under the bright morning sun, the dejected soldier had sharp dark eyes, lightly tanned skin, a stylishly shaved head, and a naturally fierce-looking visage overall (the children on the streets often cried seeing his face, but they didn't realise how soft his heart really was. He totally understood Asahi-san in this regard- sympathetically so). His slim, strong body was clad in grey and blue metal, a long black cloth flying from his spear; he looked like a regal yet ordinary soldier- and there is how his companion so drastically differed from him in disposition.

The short, fox-eyed soldier, with spiky black and bleached hair- Nishinoya Yuu stood at a meagre height of five feet two inches, but his presence in a crowded room (or in an empty courtyard, for that matter) was _immense_. Leaving his dazzling, open-toothed grins and hyperactive tendencies beside, Nishinoya was the reliable friend or mischievous companion or an albeit sketchy role-model of every young soldier in the Castle. The senior Generals were mostly fed up with him, owing to his indomitable spirit of idiocy and general craziness overall- but they all collectively understood how big of an asset the short guy was to the army. Perhaps that was the only reason he had passed his military applications at all, with- almost literally- having _peanuts_ for brains. And rotten ones at that.

Tanaka Ryuunosuke admired Nishinoya Yuu, but he had complete faith that _he_ didn't have rotten-peanut brains himself.

Tanaka Ryuu and Nishinioya Yuu had struck up a strong companionship since the first time they met, owing to their similar ages and avid respect for each other's unique personality and strength. Other people usually remarked they behaved like idiots most of the time ( _huge_ ones at that, strangely), but Tanaka knew that there was a genius residing within Nishinoya. And a monster. That guy could destroy the whole castle all by himself, single-handedly, and no one would have seen him coming.

Tanaka sighed. On most days, Nishinoya seemed to be the wisest person in the world. On some days though, Tanaka had to ride a lonely horse about the path of his life; an immensely hard, immensely rocky path of life, at that.

"Lev-san has stolen more than _thirty_ swords from me," he wildly gesticulated, desperate. "I know our purpose is to fight, but without my weapons, I'm almost _useless_ in battles. You _know_ that, Noya-san."

Nishinoya thought deeply for a moment, then decided against it. "Oh, stay strong Ryuu!" he proceeded to pat his back again. "You may not have magic, but you have your brave heart and strong, powerful body! Anyone can fight if they have those, you know?"

"You forgot _mind_ ," Tanaka remarked tiredly, and Nishinoya looked at him in genuine surprise and realisation.

"Oh yeah, I forgot," he grinned, that grin which melted and stabbed so many hearts around the castle. "You can totally fight if you have those things, my friend. Don't worry about lost swords anymore- at least they died in a good fight. A fight with a Royal!"

Tanaka sighed his umpteenth sigh that morning. _It's easy for you to say,_ he thought dejectedly, and distantly remembered that he had yet to order another sword from the blacksmiths. Preferably one with a Vanishing Spell this time. _I hope Tora returns soon, it has been too many days since our last sword practice._

  


Suddenly, the air stilled, like the calm before a storm. "Tanaka Ryuu! Nishinoya Yuu!" a loud voice boomed from one side of the courtyard, "What do you think you're doing there?"

  


The soldiers jumped, both of them; that was a voice they knew well, one that could scare away the scariest monster in Hell. They straightened instantly, as from over the grassy horizon, the General of the Third Squadron, and their still unofficial yet almost-official Sub-commander came marching into view.

Sawamura Daichi was a generally easy-going, amicable person, but the infamy of his scary wrath and anger could rival that of Yaku Morisuke's inside the castle. Dressed sharply in sleek, black and grey armour, a twisted root-iron spear in his hand, the General looked the scariest when he reprimanded his soldiers for a mistake repeated far more than twice. He glanced sternly at the patrolling duo, who froze under his scrutiny, and Tanaka belatedly remembered that there was a person who could terrify Nishinoya Yuu in the castle, too.

"Tanaka, Nishinoya," Daichi remarked testily, "Tell me you didn't forget your city patrol again today. Tell me you didn't forget your duties for the _third_ time this week."

"There, there, Daichi," the comparatively gentle, sweet-tempered Sub-commander placated his companion, and Tanaka knew he respected Asahi-san for more than just enduring the brunt of naturally scary visages. "It's only been twice, you know? Last time, everyone was busy searching for Lev-san and his fireworks to do any work, remember?"

"I do," the General agreed, still a dangerous lilt to his voice. "I remember clearly, but no one is searching for anyone today, so why are they forgetting their duties now?" He looked tersely over the two soldiers, who gulped in fear, and then breathed in deep, as if to compose himself. Tanaka decided that sternness on Daichi-san's face looked scarier than livid anger.

"Tanaka, Nishinoya," the General commanded loudly. "Get going to the city, and conclude your patrol within two hours time. If I see even one of you inside the castle after ten minutes, there'll be two weeks of extra training for both of you! Is that Understood?"

"Yes, Sir!" the soldiers shouted, and immediately ran through the courtyard, towards the huge, exiting castle gates. Daichi Sawamura crossed his arms and sighed, exasperated, while Azumane Asahi patted him on the shoulder reassuringly, long brown hair falling in curls around his shoulders. Almost accidentally, the Sub-commander spots the third oldest noble deep in conversation with his valet, sharing a private moment under the sun- and the soldiers retreated quietly from the courtyard, allowing them some deserving space.

Back in one of the crowded streets of the Eastern Market, on the other side of the Imperial Stadium, an unfortunate man shouted curses at the flame-footed thief who ran away with all of his savings for the month.

  


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_/ / /_

  


Tsukishima Kei was, with firm, definite proof and absolute certainty, _not_ a fool.

Sure, he might be many other things- people rarely took to his snide remarks and natural sarcasm in an amicable way, and he never really wanted them to. Sure, he was surrounded by remarkable fools and idiocy- more than he desired- most of the time he worked quietly in Yamaguchi's small, cosy cafe; but even then, he can firmly say that he was not a fool. Not himself. He was many things, most of them being far from positive; but he was no fool, and was almost ninety percent sure he would never emerge out as one in the future.

"Wow, I never expected your workplace to be _this_ busy at night, Yamaguchi. It's _amazing_."

Tsukishima Kei was no fool, and that was almost all reason how he knew that their sketchy evening companion was, against all claims and arguments, _not_ a traveller. He wasn't one to actively pick fights with people, not unless he was very bored; but everything about _this_ one- tall and slightly attractive with atrociously-styled hair- had felt different to Tsukishima. Made the hairs on his nape stand on end, make his instincts spike up- not in a way he was very used to. Kuroo Tetsurou could be something else, anything at all- but he was not who he said he was, and Tsukishima can back up his statement with as much conviction as when he says he was not a fool.

The man could be anything- someone lost, someone dangerous- but he had been lying to them from the very beginning. He was not a traveller, and his visit to the city was probably not a normal one too.

And he was not from Fukurodani. That much was clear- he could _never_ be from Fukurodani.

Tsukishima's eyes followed Yamaguchi as he bent towards the counter, and gave that man a warm laugh, shoulders relaxed now that the night had thickened and more than half their patrons had started homeward. "Thank you, Kuroo-san," he smiled, glancing around the cafe with unbearable fondness. "My parents built this cafe when we shifted here, and after them, I've been trying to keep the business running. Most people here are old customers, but we have a steady rise of new ones too. Couldn't have done it without everyone's help though."

The hazel-eyed traveller looked surprised. _Of course he did. It was all just an act, that liar._ Tadashi could get too taken with strangers within a very short time, could get too trusting of them- but this man was obviously a double-masked fox, someone else entirely, and Tsukishima would die before he lets him even potentially harm a single strand on Yamaguchi's hair. Or a single chair of this cafe, for that matter.

He finished washing the large mead glasses, arranged them upturned on the counter. "Yamaguchi, I'm going out," he quietly announced, and turned towards the back door as he felt those feline-sharp eyes follow his steps. He needed some air, needed to clear his mind. It had been in a disarray since evening, and he needed to decide what to do with that liar. Fast. People were turning frauds everywhere nowadays, and to act like a fool would spell trouble for this whole establishment. And all of their jobs, in turn.

He turned open the knob of the back door, that led discreetly into the small backyard of Se Cuetrar. He stepped outside, onto the wet nightgrass and unfiltered moonlight, and took in a breath of the Feyern and Rosewood growing around the ruggedly fenced area. He stood quiet, in the middle of stark loneliness, and his head cleared almost instantly.

 _Like a cat that waits before it kills,_ to wait out and observe would be the best option. Tsukishima closed his eyes. His mind knew that was the most logical way to approach the problem, but there was an itch playing under his skin. An itch that wanted him to act out, wanted to clear things up with the stranger already. He knew he wouldn't; knew that he would listen to logic and reason rather than his heart and that stupid itch, like all those times before. But he knew that he couldn't swat away those doubts in his mind. Not really- not now. Not unless he knew what the stranger actually wanted, at least.

 _To pounce before flight, like that of a hungry raven._ Tsukishima admired cats, for their patience and resilience and observation. But somewhere, somehow, he always had a soft spot for crows.

Voices floated in from the open door behind- a voice he knew, almost cherished, and a voice he was suspicious of already. He waited for a breath, then steeled his mind. _Wait it out, wait until you know him._ The sound of footfalls over the grass kept him alert, shoulders stiffening instinctively.

Abruptly, when the unfamiliar but strangely unique presence finally stilled behind him, Tsukishima turned, and faced the hazel gaze of the not-so-honest traveller head on under the moonlight.

  


__

_/ / /_

  


Kuroo stepped lightly on the wet nightgrass, the heady scent of water and moonlight filling his nostrils, making his head spin. The backyard was small, fenced unevenly around; but a bunch of Feyerns grew steadily at the sides, creepers of rosewood and night-glories climbing up the wood in tangles and sticks. The soil was covered with grass like a mat over tiles, but in the centre of the lawn, a small, circular stone-well stood low over the ground. He couldn't see whether it was filled or not; and even though he wanted to, his feet couldn't go any further. The most beautiful person in the world was standing a foot away under the moonlight, locking those golden-brown eyes to his- and Kuroo knew he was a strong man, but surprisingly not strong enough to take a step any further.

Dressed lightly in a pale blue shirt, skinny dark slacks reaching his ankles and straw-wire slippers flat under his feet, Tsukishima Kei stood still on the grass, the moon shining like a huge white orb behind his tall, graceful figure. He hadn't realised it before, but Kuroo could make out several of his details, several of those small, unnoticed things that had escaped his notice, more clearly under the moonlight than among the bright flames of the Market. Like that little silver ring that hung from his right ear, a small chain of white sparkles glinting amongst the darkness; and the way his glasses seemed darker in the night, eyes melting into pools of pure, sun-kissed gold. Like the faint lilac flowers embroidered on his shirt with the palest blue thread, and that small, crescent-shaped mark near his nape, not quite hidden under the crumpled collars of his shirt.

In the span of one evening, Kuroo had seen the guy walk through different places, stand under a variety of lights. To him, Tsukishima had glowed beautiful in all of them, but now, he decided that the moonlight made him look a little like a dream. A fever dream, perhaps, a fantasy that was never to be sought. Like a being of pure night, gazing sharply at the human who had dared to disturb him in his sanctuary; he looked regal, mystical, _beautiful_ \- but in the strangest of ways, he made Kuroo feel nervous. Maybe asking Yamaguchi to come out here hadn't been the best choice- but he had undertaken a lot of bad choices this evening, and this wasn't his first.

Kuroo gulped. Perhaps, to get closer to this guy, he could risk a few more bad choices too.

"So," he started, taking a tentative glance around. "Do you come here often?"

Tsukishima's eyes narrowed. He always had that light, pissed-at-the-world look going. "I don't think I should tell you," he replied tersely, shoulders defensive. "It's really none of your business."

"That's true," Kuroo smiled, walked a step closer. "But I would really like to know, you know?"

Those golden-freckled orbs narrowed further, gaze trailing over Kuroo's every little movement. "That's _your_ business," he remarked, side-stepping Kuroo when he came a little too close for comfort. "I have nothing to do with it, Traveller-san."

Kuroo huffed, and let out a displeased groan. "I _told_ you not to call me that," he said, glancing into the stone-well beside to see the shallow clear water reflect the moon back at him. "You can call me by my name, you know? It'd be lots better."

Strangely, Tsukishima's face turned into a neutral mask again. "Your name?" he inquired blankly, voice even. "What was it again?"

Kuroo smiled, sportingly meeting the sarcasm. "Kuroo Tetsurou," he brought a hand to his nape, messed up his hair a little. "You could call me that."

"And why would I do so, Traveller-san?"

"So that we can be friends. At least start to be, a little."

Tsukishima scoffed, quite simultaneously amused and disbelieving. " _Be friends?_ " he quipped scornfully. "You are nothing more than a stranger to me, why would I ever want to be friends with you?"

"Well, because I want us to be."

"And why do you want _that_?" Tsukishima crossed his hands, made a face. The glow of his eyes was brighter than the moon behind him. "And what makes you think I would do whatever you please?"

Kuroo laughed, loud and careless. Tsukishima scowled at the noise; Kuroo knew how ugly his laugh could be at times, had received Yaku and Akaashi's complaints in stride many times before. Still, he was past caring; his original plan to charm Tsukishima with his looks and words had gone down the drains, and he had even ended up arguing with him on the way. He was past trying to be the charismatic noble strangers often mistook him for, and the only image he could build of himself now was his own. His real, clumsy, ugly-laugh kind of self; the self which was teasing, sarcastic, impulsive, a disaster of a klutz, and all the thousand things for which Akaashi was fed up with him. Kuroo wanted to be his own self now, under his own skin- and even if he failed to impress the golden-curled boy like that, at least Tsukishima looked cute when he was annoyed.

Actually, Tsukishima looked cute in whatever mood he was. Maybe Kuroo needed Yachi to test his eyesight once again.

"Well, I'm not gonna lie," he grinned, facing Tsukishima readily as a sweet fall breeze blew through the leaves and sent tingles down their arms. "I actually want to know about you, you now? Get to know you more, see the person inside that pissed-off face you're always making. And probably test for myself to see if your socialising skills are as bad as Yamaguchi claims or not."

Tsukishima's eyes widened minutely, a fraction; they narrowed into a glare soon after, but Kuroo caught it anyway.

"Now that's just convenient," the taller guy replied, scepticism dripping from his face and voice. "Tell me, do you say that to all the strangers you befriend randomly at nights in the markets? Or do you get to know them because you're a spy from an opponent kingdom, trying to find a hole in the society so that you can uproot your potentially stronger enemies with ease?"

Kuroo grinned, sharp and amused. "Wow, you have an active imagination," he remarked, bringing a hand to chin. "I must decline both options though, brilliant as they are- because you and Yamaguchi are the only people I have ever befriended at night in a market. Your friend is very kind, but it would be a lie if I said I came here only because of him, you know?"

Tsukishima's face morphed into tightly-sealed annoyance, cheeks reddening lightly. He turned his face away, eyes gracefully downcast. "What you're doing is disrupting my privacy," he announced instead, voice even and cold. "I would prefer if you leave me alone, and get going to your own business already. It's very late."

"Yeah, late it is," Kuroo remarked, hands coming behind his head in a relaxed position. He took a step back, then two, and three. On the fourth one, he rested his back against the cafe's wall and plopped down on the grass. Loudly. Tsukishima turned back in surprise, and Kuroo smiled up at him, loving the picturesque effect the feyerns behind Tsukishima's figure complimented brightly with the dark of the night.

"Yamaguchi said you guys are open all night," he leaned his head back, buried a hand into the wet nightgrass. "He also said that the backyard isn't actually an out-of-bounds area, so I can stay here for however long I want."

Tsukishima's face morphed into a series of frowns again; of annoyance, of surprise at Kuroo's audacity, of sheer exasperation, perhaps. His hands clenched at his sides, pale knuckles turning white with undue effort. Kuroo liked bantering with him, riling him up (he was a twisted jerk, he knew), but he hoped that the annoyance he had caused the guy today wouldn't stain his image permanently. He could be too much sometimes, he knew- but he really hoped he wasn't completely into Tsukishima's _List of Most Vile, Annoying Creatures on Earth_ already.

If he was in his _List of Most Annoying Random Strangers in the World_ though, then it was okay. He was better than a useless animal, at least.

"So you're going to stay here?" Tsukishima asked incredulously, furiously. "You're going to stay out here _all night_?"

"I kind of want to, yeah," Kuroo grinned, extending a hand upwards. "This place is beautiful, after all. Wanna join me, oh Eternally Annoyed Person?"

"No thanks," the reply returned, cold. "And I'm not eternally annoyed. _You_ are an eternally annoying person."

"So I've been told," Kuroo bowed elegantly. "It has been a pleasure, sir."

" _Idiot_ ," Tsukishima seethed quietly. He clenched his hands tighter, and marched past his obstinate self on the grass and right into the cafe, steadily muttering something about useless best friends and random annoying strangers and how said best friends should not divulge things of importance to said annoying strangers. Kuroo grinned victoriously- he was on the right list after all.

The feyern leaves glowed bright against the ink of the sky, the night glories intoxicating the air with their heady smell and sweet, feather-light pollen. The moon glowed bright as ever, a string of blackbirds and butterflies fluttering past like dust on breeze- and Kuroo closed his eyes. He felt sleepy, and he had a feeling he was going to sleep very well here.

Before his eyes drooped completely, he thought how empty the moon felt without the figure of a certain someone glowing in front of it. After that, all he saw was oblivion.

  


__

_/ / /_

  


Tsukishima Kei was _not_ a fool. It is a fact that has been mentioned before; reaffirmed most vigorously, conscientiously. He was no fool, and to act like one was beyond his boundaries of general ethics and moral principals and the laws of his personal nature entirely.

Yet now, one hour after he had left the backyard in a furious, livid temperament, Tsukishima stood tall before the sleeping stranger on the grass, and decided that what he was doing was probably beyond anything remotely foolish he had attempted to do in his life. Probably the most foolish act of his life. Tsukishima felt like a fool, an idiot- and that, he decided, was equivalent to feeling the worst feeling in the world.

 _Sometimes, things just happen_ , Yamaguchi had said randomly one day, on a very random topic. _Things just happen, and you find yourself doing something you'd have never thought you'd do, you know?_ For the first time in his life, Tadashi's words rang truer than everything he had known all his life.

"Fuck," he muttered, mind set. Raising his hand, twirling the willow-wood wand in his fingers, Tsukishima cast the spell before he could rethink his choices again, and refusing to feel like the greatest fool in the world, he turned about, and marched right into the cafe without a single backward glance.

_Fuck you, Kuroo Tetsurou_ , he decided angrily. The blackbirds on the feyern twittered a soulful serenade for each other in the moonlight.  


__

_/ / /_

  


"So," Akaashi remarked, blank and curious and just a tiny bit astounded (his friend turned out to be a greater idiot than he imagined, of course he was astounded), "You mean to say that the guy who argued with you throughout the night, the one whom you annoyed to death with your teases and general annoying presence, decided to put a Warming Spell on you when you crossed your usual levels of stupidity and decided to sleep on the grass in the backyard of a cafe, of all things? You want me to believe _that_ , Kuroo?"

" _Yes_ ," Kuroo replied, arms spread wide, eyes bright and animated. "Because it's true! I was in a huge hurry when Yamaguchi woke me up, I was so late and all- I didn't even listen to him properly. But I heard him when he said Tsukishima put a spell on me to keep me warm, because apparently I was "a fool who didn't know sleeping on wet grass could be mildly hazardous for health". What- what do you say to _that_ , Keiji?"

"Absolutely nothing," Akaashi Keiji replied, shoulders drooping in defeat. "If I had known you would ruin an innocent civilian's night this way, I would have never helped you to run."

"Oh, come on," Kuroo groaned, stomping his feet on the grass, hands flailing. "Don't you see it? I think that guy is horribly interesting, both of them are- and that place! I dunno if you've been to cafes, Akaashi, but Se Cuetrar is incredible. Next time, I think you should join me too."

"Absolutely not," the valet replied, firmly. "And what do you mean _'next time'_? Wasn't this a one-time thing, Kuroo?"

"Uh, well," the noble shifted, from one feet to another, face mildly guilty. "You see, now that I've befriended them-"

"You didn't befriend them Kuroo, not Tsukishima. And you _promised_ -"

"No, I didn't," Kuroo interrupted him, hastily. "I promised to return by sunrise, which I broke. But there were no other promises, Keiji. You know there weren't."

Akaashi stopped short, in a tense, disapproving silence. Kuroo stepped closer, eyes soft, hands coming up to wrap around his friend's arms. "Keiji," he said, voice comforting, reassuring, uncharacteristically serious. "After last night, I can't _not_ go out again. It's a whole world out there, and I'm a part of it. I've never been so, never seen anything- but now that I have, I can't leave it behind." He left Akaashi's shoulders, face morphing into a mask of resolve and determination. "I won't trouble you again," he said sincerely. "I won't ask for your help again- if anything happens, it'd be all on me. Totally on me. I won't go out every night but, I can't stop now. I'm sorry Keiji- I just _can't_."

The valet turned his head to one side, eyes narrowed. "You seem more interested in Tsukishima than people are in simple friends, Kuroo."

"Uh," Kuroo backed a step, face slightly red. "Well," he gesticulated wildly, "You see, I've- I've been trying to find an answer to that myself but- but it's just-"

Akaashi stared a beat at his noble, then sighed. He opened his mouth to reply, realising how the noble was too deep into something he couldn't even well understand. Before he could start though, there was a loud, terrible _crash_ , and Haiba Lev's petrified screams floated from somewhere inside the Kitchens.

Within a moment, it was followed by Yaku-san's shouts, which echoed: "FINALLY FOUND YOU, YOU MISCREANT. LET'S SEE YOU STEAL ANYTHING MORE FROM THE CASTLE, YOU-YOU-"

"Shit," Kuroo intoned, surprised. "When I said Lev was in the Kitchens, it was a total, complete bluff. Only an idiot can ever think of hiding in the Kitchens, Akaashi. I thought Lev was better than that."

"There are many kind people in the castle, Kuroo-san," Akaashi remarked, gazing sidelong at Kuroo's profile, thinking how Yachi Hitoka's face would brighten like a star when a beat-up Lev would offer her a melon bun in her office. "Let's take things inside for now, shall we?"

Kuroo nodded readily, cloak flying, grin glowing brighter than the Sun in the sky.

  
__

/ / /

  


That night, in one corner of the Eastern Market, deep within the slum areas littered with weeds and rubbish and empty cauldron wastes, a youthful voice broke out through the silence of the neighbourhood.

  


"Natsu, I'm home!"

  


Clambering unsteadily through the too-small doors of his humble tumbledown-shack (which was nothing but a mess of sticks and mud and hay held up with a little magic), Hinata took off the cloak around his shoulders, sighing tiredly. There was a sound of pattering footsteps, running inside the house; and looking down, the flame-haired boy was met with a pale face, brown doe eyes, and an identical flame-coloured mess of spiky short hair. His kid sister looked up expectantly at him, extending her hands skyward- and Hinata smiled. Extending his own arms down, he picked up the kid onto his lap with a playful, dramatic swish.

"So, Natsu, what's for dinner tonight?" Hinata grinned, and Natsu wrapped her little arms round his neck, snuggling closer into his scent. "I hope it's something tasty!"

"Mm-hmm, _fish_ ," his sister replied gleefully, little fingers playing with the relatively longer strands of her bother's hair. "I couldn't cook it, but Sugawara-san helped me." She looked at him brightly, smiling wide, a half-toothed grin. "He is awesome, nee-chan! He said if i'm a good girl, he'll help me cook meat too! I love meat- don't you too, nee-chan?"

"Huh? Sure I do!" Hinata smiled, mentally reminding himself to thank Sugawara-san for everything he did one of these days. And to ask him to stop. "But let's eat our fish now, okay? It'll taste bad if it goes cold."

"Okay," Natsu, leapt down from his lap, and ran into the house. "Let's eat, Nee-chan!" she called out, innocent, excited; and with a troubled mind and hungry stomach, Hinata followed behind. It had been a long day, running amok the beastly cruel capital, and he deserved a good night's meal. For today. They didn't have one everyday, after all.

Like an ominous reminder of reality, the stolen pouch in his pant pockets jingled as he walked into the comfort of his shack. _It doesn't matter,_ he quietly decided. _Those white lilies Sugawara-san loves need to be bought with money too. Something we can't have._ Another tiresome day had ended again, one filled with morning suns and screaming guards and sharp, icy shards- and he wished the next day would never really come. 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooo, I think i'm getting better at writing KuroTsuki. Let me know what you think in the comments below! 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope everyone has a great day/night! Bye Bye! :)))


	6. Routine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The King brought a hand to his chin, nodded thoughtfully. He hummed a little, and finally looked over his shoulders to glance knowingly at his adviser. "Keishin, I think it's time."
> 
> Ukai gulped. This was a bad day after all. "Pardon me, Your Honour. It's time for what, exactly?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay, but here's a new chapter! It's a bit short, but very essential to the plot. I hope you all enjoy it! :))

Like a gust of wind that cuts through air, loaded with sweat and dust and an infinite horde of tiny magic particles- the scorching heat blazes through his clothes, sears his skin, makes him sweat more than he wanted to at this particular moment.

This was an important moment, after all- for him and his mission. The crimson flag of Nekoma flutters in the distance, the cobbled streets a straight path leading to his destination; and even he, a living disaster with directions, cannot lose sight of the kingdom coming closer with each skipped step. It's ten minutes within which he's at the entrance, the humongous, marble-cast spiral towers standing majestically on each side, beckoning every traveller inside to marvel at its pale beauty and rich, ancient integrity. He stares long at the structures, shining brilliant under the waking sun; stares unblinking at them, and smiles a bright, victorious grin.

He wanted to _crush_ them. He wanted to crush it all, the entire kingdom within his fist- and now he could. With extreme cautiousness and determination, he walks nearer; nearer and nearer, until he spots something moving in the distance. A group of crows cry overhead, the flutter of wings loud in the air as feathers of pitch blackness fall unceremoniously from the sky.

There was a man was roaming around the towers, eyes half-closed, a fringe of dark hair falling on his forehead. He runs towards him, eager for directions; and seeing him advance, the unknown guy straightens, blue eyes opening wide curiously.

"Hey, hi," he greets him cheerily, a happy hand raised and friendly. "Can you tell me where the Western Market is, Sir? It's been a long time since my last visit here, and I'm afraid I tend to mix up places rather frequently."

He wondered if he had overacted a bit, fearful when the guy didn't reply for a beat. Surprisingly though, the stranger raised his own hand after a second. Stretched it behind, towards the kingdom, pale index finger pointing distinctly to the left of the towers standing tall beside them.

"There," he said, voice deep, smooth, and gruff with sleep. "Keep walking left, follow that road- and you'll get there."

"Ah, thank you!" he replies exuberantly, bowing a little and excusing himself. _The people aren't all bad here,_ he decides resolutely as he walks. _That's good, I only have business with the Crown anyway. I hope the Great Commander wouldn't be much disappointed in me._ He skips a little, hands waving, lips stretching into a wide smile. Despite everything, he couldn't deny how beautiful the kingdom actually was- it's colours and smells and shy, pre-morning glory a true sight to behold. The sky was still pink and purple, the moon-clouds drifting lazily away; he advanced a step further, and then stopped. Turned abruptly to look back, to thank that guy again for helping him first thing in the morning.

When he turns though, there is no one standing near the twin marble towers. No pale-skinned, slouched boy with dark hair and sleepy eyes, no sign of life whatsoever. What only remains is a lone raven perched hungrily over one spiral of the entrance, a trail of frosted ice left disappearing behind in the dry, dusty road.

  


__

_/ / /_

  


"One, two.. and three!"

  


Yamaguchi stood tall in the centre of the cafe, hands poised and ready. He took a in deep breath, bundled his arms- and when he exhaled, long fingers stretched into thin air, a blast of strong, hurricane-like columns of wind exploding throughout the place. Chairs were upturned, the window panes cluttered loudly; a pair of curtains fell from their place, chaotic- but within a moment, the cafe was filled with the smell of fresh pine and rosebuds, a distinct, flowery fragrance permeating throughout the cosy building in bursts and waves.

"All done," he muttered to himself, rubbing his hands tiredly. Air-magic was generally considered uncommon, slightly difficult and more shifty than other elements, but the clear pendant on his neck testified to the fact that he was a certified magic-user, after all. Still, it never became less hard to conjure up the more complicated of spells, and it was only through sheer effort and daily rigorous practice that he had come this far in mastering the tricks of Aeromagia.

The magic to control how people smelled their surroundings was an underrated, but a most useful spell. Yamaguchi was glad he had learnt it during his school years when he had the chance, even though he didn't know he'd be running a somewhat popular cafe in the Western Market someday. Sighing, and wishing he'd get some sleep today, the green-haired boy with prominent freckles tightened the apron behind him, and looked at the clock on the mantelpiece keeping track of the very early time of the day.

"Greetings," a sleepy, deep voice came gruffly from the entrance, the glass bells tinkling as the man slid easily into the cafe. Tall, slouched, and a mop of cropped pink hair over his head, the man yawned loudly once, and searchingly looked about the cafe in confusion.

Yamaguchi smiled, grateful for the company. "Good morning, Hanamaki-san," he greeted, sending a white chef's apron flying through the air and stopping near the tall man's barely-awake frame. Hanamaki blinked sleepily at it; then gingerly received the apron, and tied it behind his back. 

"Kyoutani's coming today, right?" he asked conversationally, sharp brown eyes blank yet just a bit curious. "I shall kill him if he goes on another deer-hunt or something without informing us beforehand again."

The freckled boy picks himself from his state of fatigue, and gets about to work. "Oh yes, he'll come," he nodded in assent, fingers moving to summon a breeze, picking up all those chairs that had fallen over before. "I'm sure it wasn't a deer-hunt yesterday, but he is never absent more than once in a row. Kinnoshita's coming over too, so we shall have all our staff today."

"Hasn't Tsukishima's got that exam or something? I remember he mentioned something about it a few days before," Hanamaki mused, bending down and arranging the cups and crockery that usually adorned the neat and pristine order counter. "We won't be getting him for two nights in a row, so there goes another one already. I think it's time you hired some new people, Yamaguchi. The cafe's getting popular, but we have too less hands on board as it is."

"Yeah," Yamaguchi sighed, thoughts drifting, hands a disarray. "I'm trying to, but it's not working well. Most of the people I approached have permanent jobs here, and those who didn't ran away as soon as they saw how chaotic it is at night."

Hanamaki snorts, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from his drooping, pointed eyes. "People can be such huge idiots," he remarks, in the midst of running the tap and filling all the herbal tea-cups with water. "Doesn't matter though- I'm staying here as long as the place's open." He rummaged searchingly for something under the counter, then cursed loudly in frustration. "Dammnit- how am I supposed to cook if I don't have a single knife in place? I'm telling you Yamaguchi, don't let Kyoutani handle the counter. He's too fond of my knives, who knows when he'll want to gobble them all up or something?"

Yamaguchi laughs, sleepy and relaxed. In less than an hour, the cafe would be littered with customers, the busy way of weekdays finally kicking in- but he still had time, and he wanted to enjoy it. Enjoy the only time he got to relax, and hope that one more day would pass by good as well. "They're just behind you, Hanamaki-san," he points a finger behind the tall man, at the tall, rose-wood made store shelves. "Kinnoshita arranged them all and kept them in a box, so that they won't get lost."

"Bless that kid," Hanamaki mutters, turning around to sift through the shelves. Yamaguchi lets his hands fall, and plops down on one cushioned chair nearby, eyes falling closed. Through the whistle of wind outside, he can hear Kinnoshita's light footsteps advance through the road, Kyoutani's rough ones ploughing from the other direction. The breeze grants him sharp hearing, a sense of knowledge secret to everyone, and he sighs contently. Only yesterday, he had heard the steps of a light-footed thief, followed desperately by loud, shouting guards and the clunk of metal and hyperactive thunder. There wasn't much disturbance today, but the kingdom was as unpredictable as the weather, and he had his ears open for everything throughout.

At one corner of his mind, he hoped that the traveller they met yesterday would drop by the cafe sometime again. He had looked a bit sketchy, but Yamaguchi knew he was a nice person, truly lost and curious. Tsukishima hadn't taken to him well, but his genuine smell had given it all away. 

Alert yet sleepy, Yamaguchi Tadashi closes his eyes, and falls into a light, short slumber. Somewhere else, somewhere not too far, Tsukishima Kei falls asleep with a quill in his hands, music playing in his ears as the books snap close around him.

  


__

_/ / /_

  


"Taketora-san, you came back!"

Yachi Hitoka sprinkles the last of the dry shoots into her alight, smoky cauldron, and looks curiously out of the third-floor window of her small, dusty office. There was the youngest noble, silver hair flying in the wind as he jumps and runs towards a strong-looking man advancing through the gates in the distance. Despite his sharp eyes, bleached blonde mohawk and overall scary visage, the older man runs towards his brother as well, yelling enthusiastically. They meet halfway in a hug, Lev falling over Taketora in his excitement, a tangle of fair limbs and tanned hands laughing hysterically over the grass. Yachi laughs out instinctively, fingers to her lips, reminding herself to thank the younger noble for the melon buns she had found this morning, steaming hot and delectable.

"THERE YOU ARE, BROTHER. FINALLY YOU'RE BACK- WE MISSED YOU!"

Yaku's voice is heard before his footsteps, but Yachi sees his short form jump into the hug a moment later, vermilion cloak flying in a wave behind. The petite, brown-eyed witch leans forward on the windowsill, golden hair flying softly in the breeze. A reunion like this was heartwarming even to a stranger, and she had known the nobles since she had been a kid. She had heard their stories, seen them playing and fooling around the castle, with or without a sentry's watch- and though she wasn't in a position to directly mingle with them, the youngest noble had found his way into her office too easily. Crawled discreetly through the window, and won her heart with his kindness- despite his occasional antics, and bursts of youthful fun and rebellion.

She looked down, trying to see if the other nobles would show up to greet their returning brother in turn. Sure enough, not even a minute passed since long legs jumped brilliantly through the courtyard, spiked red hair paired with round brown eyes and a bright, bright grin. Inuoka Sou-san, the second-youngest of the nobles, stepped delightfully into the fray, but stopped abruptly when he saw Taketora comically flailing in the ground, almost unable to breathe. He stooped down instead, and helped his brother up- Lev still hung onto his arms like a bat, but one of Yaku-san's roundabout kicks were enough to send him flying.

"Oho, what a warm greeting indeed," finally, the drawling, smirking face of Kuroo Tetsurou-san appeared on the grass, followed close behind by his alert, intuitive valet. Yachi had spoken more than a few words with Akaashi before, albeit nervously, and she was almost impressed how a quiet man like him could manage to keep his charming yet slightly reckless noble at bay. "I hope all your limbs are in place, Taketora. Are you any closer to becoming General now?"

"Of course!" Taketora-san replies, voice loud and boisterous. "A week with the Army has shaped me up, and I shall prove my improved swordsmanship only in a battle with my longtime friend! It will be soon when everyone shall address me as the General in the castle, you know?"

"Uh-huh," Yaku-san hummed, nudging him mischievously. "That'll only be when the current General actually decides to leave her position, brother."

Taketora groans, as the youngest noble perks up beside him. "Whoa, you're having a fight with Tanaka-san?" Lev asks excitedly, skipping on his toes. "Can I come? Can I come and see it? Please please _please_ Taketora-san- I swear I won't disturb you guys!"

"Ha, of course you can!" Taketora laughs loudly, patting his cousin on the back, delighted. "You shall witness how real fighters war, brother! I'm sure it'll be a great inspiration for you."

" _Yes,_ " Lev jumped victoriously, smiling, as Yaku huffed; almost the whole castle knew the young noble's dream of becoming the next General, everyone except Taketora-san himself. He could be surprisingly oblivious at times. Inuoka came forward now, looking at Taketora with a plea in his eyes. "Taketora-san, can I come too?" he asked resolutely, hands tightened into fists by his sides. "I want to fight like you, and I won't disturb you and Tanaka-san even a little! Can I come and watch the fight with Lev too, please?"

"You don't need to ask, Inuoka," the tanned noble affirmed happily, thumping his chest, the metal of his armour clanking loudly in the air. "Really, all of your enthusiasm has pumped me up! I can assure you that I shall absolutely win today, at all costs necessary!"

"That's interesting," Akaashi remarked quietly from behind. "I just heard Tanaka say the exact same thing to Nishinoya yesterday."

Yaku-san burst out laughing, clutching his stomach, as Lev and Inuoka stared at him in confusion. "Ah, such boiling, youthful competition," Kuroo-san smirked, crossing his arms and sharing a secret glance with his surprisingly quick-humoured friend. "I hope you don't embarrass yourself in front of your brothers, Tora. Tanaka would be raving about it for days- and us nobles don't exactly have a reputable reputation around, you know?"

Taketora-san huffed a small scream of rage and determination, Yaku-san's strong limbs belatedly coming to hold him in place. Kuroo-san uncrossed his arms, and patted his aspiring brother on the shoulder, the rest of the nobles' chaotic conversation melding into incomprehension soon after.

Yachi giggled softly to herself- the nobles were too fun to watch, all with their diverse, clashing personalities and surprisingly strong, intimate bonding. They were not all brothers, but actually cousins linked with nothing but blood; Lev and Yaku-san were the only true siblings among them, while the others came from different families, growing up together as one joint family since childhood. Their parents had all been the Great King's children, valiant and intelligent ministers of the Council once- but only Nobuyaki-san's father lived from their generation now, the others long gone with the turn of seasons. The Royal Family was powerful, influential, united by blood and sweat and something else beyond words- but they were infested with tragedies as well, too many of them, with the one that had occurred eighteen years ago being the worst of all.

It was a tragedy that had shaken the world, almost broke apart the kingdom. Yachi had been but only a kid then, yet the horrors of that time were still etched deep into the kingdom's otherwise prosperous, timeless history.

A knock came sharp from the office door, shaking her out of her reverie. Turning around, she looked to see a mop of curly black hair and big, box-shaped glasses flashing timidly in the sunlight, and a smile came on her face almost instantly.

"Takeda-san," she bowed, a hand running through her locks to keep them from her face. "Hello. Do you need anything from me?"

"Uh, yes, actually," the short-statured man bowed in return, clutching a bundle of scrolls tightly to his chest. "I was looking for Ukai-san, really, but I can't find him anywhere. Do you know where he might be, Yachi?"

"Uh, I'm not sure," Yachi shook her head, voice musing and just a touch nervous. "He's been spending a lot of time in the Library nowadays, but I don't know where he might be if not there. I'm sorry, Takeda-san."

Takeda shook his head, eyes disappointed yet understanding. "Oh no, it's fine. I just wanted to make sure, that is." He slid half out of the door, excusing himself, then stopped abruptly. "Say, has Taketora-san returned from the Military Training camp today? I think I heard the nobles shouting his name downstairs."

"Oh yes," Yachi nodded, smiling brightly. "I just saw them outside. Everyone seems very happy on his return- their reunion was a warm sight to behold."

"I see," Takeda-san sighs happily, an unbearable fondness clouding his large, dark-greyish eyes. "Only two more, and they'd all be together again." He adjusted his glasses a little, and nodded. "I'll be leaving then. Have a good day, Yachi."

"You too," Yachi says, as the door clicks closed after the retreating visitor. Face winsome with hope and nostalgia, her bright brown eyes stray outside the large open window, marking the sky, trailing every stray bird that dared to float high among the thick, rainless clouds. Somewhere else, somewhere far, far away, some other people were sharing the same sky with her- they were just too apart to share each other's presence, that is.

 _Only two more,_ she thought quietly. _Only two more, and perhaps this broken family can finally get a chance to heal once again._

  


__

_/ / /_

  


"You called for me, Your Majesty?"

Ukai Keishin bows instinctively, and slowly slides into the private chambers of the Great King himself. A nervous sheen of sweat matts his brow, the hairs on his nape standing up in apprehension. It wasn't a regular occurrence when the King requested his presence outside of public courtrooms and the regular, often exhausting Throne Room discussions; and to get one so out of the blue (by cat post, even- from the King's dear own pet) was an idea that didn't settle quite well with him. Royal Adviser or not, it was rare for him to have a one-on-one meeting with the old, occasionally cryptic man, and Ukai decided that he was just too unlucky today.

His stars had the worst timing of running out of luck, and he sincerely wished he hadn't done anything bad recently to have himself personally fired by His Majesty from this rather well-paying job.

"Keishin," the Great King, standing slouched near the window, stood with his back to him, a thick, crimson cloak with golden embroiders covering his shoulders and falling gracefully onto the floor. His hands clasped behind, a half of his perpetually smiling profile was outlined with prominent wrinkles and creases; Nekomata Yasufumi was old, an old man indeed- but the grim presence of power and reverence that he exuded was irrevocably felt, by each citizen and every curious, passing-by travellers around the Kingdom. Ukai gulped, and bowed his head a bit, awaiting the man to speak further along his thoughts.

The Great King looked steadily out of the window, sharp, feline eyes pressed onto the courtyard below. "Do you see them there, Keishin?" he spoke slowly, voice gruff and low with age, heavy with a sentiment outsiders could never attempt to decipher. "Everyone is starting to come back. It's been a few long years, but time passes by before the traveller of life can blink." He stopped short, then tilted his head. "How many days are left for Nobuyuki and Fukunaga to return, Adviser?"

Ukai broke out of his silence, and cleared his throat shortly. "Two weeks," he replied, crisp and polite. "We received their message just yesterday. They are near Johenzi now, and it's only a matter of a few days after which they shall cross the Wakunan-Nekoma border. Some of our troops are returning as well, Your Majesty."

The King brought a hand to his chin, nodded thoughtfully. He hummed a little, and finally looked over his shoulders to glance knowingly at his adviser. "Keishin, I think it's time."

Ukai gulped. This was a bad day after all. "Pardon me, Your Honour. It's time for what, exactly?"

Nekomata smiled, old and crinkled and astoundingly intuitive. "You've always been a sharp one, Keishin. Just like your grandfather." He looked out the window again- onto the courtyard where the shouts and yells of the young nobles still rang loudly over the grass. "I cannot keep them forever, you know," he remarked softly. "It's been too long, and it's time we faced the past, and embraced the future as it shall decide to greet us thereupon."

He turned back, regal and sharp and powerful, frame half-lit under the sun and the shadows of the curtains pulled close around. His eyes narrowed, smile grim. "It's time, Keishin. It's time I let them go."

Ukai stared long and hard at his King; gulped again, and then bowed deeply. "As you wish, Your Honour," he assented quietly, a tangle of thoughts jumbling up and twisting themselves at one back of his mind. "I shall make all arrangements, and you do not need to worry about anything. Everything shall go however you want, Your Honour."

He would be stuck doing the paperwork and arranging all those details again. It was his job as the Adviser, but he was sure no other Adviser in the world did as much overtime as he had been doing for the last eighteen years. It was an unlucky day, unfortunately- and he had no other choice but to live with it for the time being.

Nekomata Yasufumi nods softly, quiet and grim. Outside, a bespectacled man looks fondly at the nobles from out a window, and wonders where the Royal Adviser of the King had disappeared to on such a fine, random morning.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone has any theories about the possible complications or mysteries so far, I would love to know it! Please leave a comment if you feel like it, and kudos and bookmarks are always, always appreciated!
> 
> Bye bye, and I hope everyone has a great day/night! :))


	7. (Silver) Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He finds Asahi (or does Asahi find him?) about twenty minutes later, both of them struggling through the thick bustling crowd to get within a proper speaking distance. One look at his face, and the bearded man asks, "Daichi, what happened to you?"
> 
> Daichi stares blankly at his friend, trying in vain to refute the only thought that's been going through his mind right now. _I think I just fell in love._
> 
> Instead, he asks: "Hey, do you think they have any bakeries around here?"
> 
> (Or, in which Daichi is exhausted, Hinata is exhausted, and Asahi seems to know everything. Oh, and Tsukishima is exhausted too, for a different reason entirely.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. I've never, never been a quick writer- procrastination is my middle name, almost- but things are different when your own story turns into a borderline obsession for you. Enjoy this, everyone, and I hope the new character introduction here surprises you (just a bit, okay?)!
> 
> See you downstairs!

" _God,_ " his lightly tanned, severely exhausted friend groaned beside him in frustration. "Asahi, tell me we're not doing this to ourselves."

Asahi hummed sympathetically, stroking down his short brown beard and shrugging lightly. "It's only a matter of a few hours, Daichi," he placated his scowling companion optimistically. "People have reported of the thief several times before, and if Tanaka and Nishinoya couldn't catch him, then he must be indeed powerful. It's not becoming of the Commander to look so down, you know?"

"It's not becoming of fully-trained soldiers to lose track of a local thief, Asahi," Daichi countered, hand clasping his spear tightly, ignoring the curious looks they got from the citizens busy with their groceries in this part of the Market. "We are not _supposed_ to be doing this. Can you imagine what the General will do if she hears we Commanders went to city to hunt down a thief who wasn't like- an infamous mage or an international spy or something? We should have other work to do, Asahi, something other than doing the work of our strange, hyperactive juniors."

"Hey, you know that's not right," Asahi gently nudged his friend, rubbing off a sheen of moisture building steadily on his forehead. It was too hot for a day in Spring, it seemed. "You know Tanaka is too hot-headed for his own good, and Nishinoya isn't a person who gives up so easily. You saw how they looked yesterday, right? They looked so completely defeated, failing to arrest that guy for over two _weeks_. Not only are they down, but the image of the Army is at stake too- this is precisely when us Commanders have to do something about it, right?"

"Yeah, right," Daichi looked down at his feet, and sighed deeply. "I simply cannot imagine Saeko's face when she hears about this. Just let me catch that guy," he made a furious motion with his hands, wrangling an invisible neck within his strong, calloused hands. "He needs to pay for everything we are going through today."

Asahi laughed, warm and amused. "You're making that scary face again, Daichi. The kids will get scared seeing you."

"Hmph. You make kids cry everyday, Asahi."

The long-haired soldier laughed again, running a hand through his locks and adjusting the unnaturally long spear in his hand. It was a foot over his own head, made entirely of black lacquer and willow; remarkably thick to hold, firm, and magically unbreakable. It was the best weapon Asahi could have had for himself, though his timidness often kept him from using it when needed. He was just a wilful follower of peace, just a man who was perhaps practising a partially unfit profession- but Daichi was there when he was too hard on himself, was there when he needed help trying to pick up some confidence that was so often essential in battles.

"THIEF- THIEF! STOP- SOMEONE STOP HIM!"

The peace of the street was broken by a young woman's scream, baskets upturning, cats hissing, coins tinkling as a young pair of legs swiftly ran away from the scene. Asahi whipped around, spear ready, but his friend was faster, muttering a small "Got him," under his breath, then breaking into a crazed sprint after the short, flame-haired guy.

"STOP, YOU," The Commander of the Third Squadron shouted, voice reverberating, rows of people and kids and busy vendors with filled hands jumping out of their way. "Stop this instant, and give yourself up! You don't want to worsen your punishment after you're caught, boy!" Swinging the twisted-root spear in his hands, he swiped it into thin air, a horde of earth granules magically materialising in front, flinging themselves like pellets at the runaway thief.

"Everyone, please stay back," Asahi shouted at the civilians, knowing through experience how Daichi couldn't use his powers well in crowded areas, which meant more chance for the thief to get away. They followed him steadily, through crowds and streets and small, dingy alleyways; Daichi kept shouting at him, to stop and surrender, while the pale-skinned, young boy occasionally glanced back in fear, never letting down his pace. On and on they ran, keeping up the chase for a good fifteen minutes, breaths burning, legs straining, yet none of the parties giving up. In some of the less crowded places, Daichi attempted to fling pellets and small boulders at the guy rigorously, and at last, at one breathless moment, a flying root got stuck in his toes, and the thief stumbled and fell down on the road, face-first, the shadow of a dead alleyway looming over his features.

Asahi came to a stop, legs screaming in exhaustion. He panted, rested his hands on his knees, as Daichi stood ahead of him, pinning down the fallen thief with a stern, commanding expression. " _Finally,_ " he breathed out, scary and victorious. "You have tormented the civilians for long, boy. It's time we hand you over, and a just punishment is bestowed on you for your crimes."

"Y-you're the guards?" the young thief, who was too young to be stealing, actually, stuttered breathlessly, scared and dumbstruck. "You're not the ones who patrol the city everyday."

"No, we're not," Daichi replied, hitting the road with the end of his spear, ensuing a loud thud. "You have stolen lots of things from lots of poor, innocent people, and now we have caught you."

Asahi stepped forward, trying his best to look intimidating. Perhaps his attempts worked, because the boy squawked in fear, and crawled back instinctively. "Stretch out your hands, boy," he commanded, gentle, yet loud and deep, bringing out a pair of silver chains from his belt. "You can come with us quietly, and no one has to get hurt anymore."

The boy looked intently at the chains, a spark of defiance and repulsion flashing in his eyes. Slowly, cautiously, he bent his head, stretched out his arms- but before Asahi could catch them, he flipped back from his seat in the ground; jumped a good five feet away from them, like an animal, grinning nimbly.

"STOP," Daichi shouted, furious, as Asahi stepped forward to catch him. "STOP THIS MOMENT, OR I SWEAR I WILL-"

His sentence remained unfinished, and Asahi froze where he was, dumbstruck. There, in front of the dead end of the alleyway, the flame-haired thief bent over his stomach, let out a low, guttural noise. And suddenly, at once- unbelievably, astoundingly- a large pair of black, black wings, their inky feathers twice the size of its beholder, burst through his back, ripping through his shirt and the skin of his shoulders, shining darker than the shadows clouding menacingly around them. The short guy grinned brighter, eyes glinting crimson, and before they could move, he had disappeared into the sky in a whirl of flames and wind and inky-raven feathers, sun burning like fire behind it all.

The soldiers looked up at the sky, dumbfounded, eyes as big and round as crystal-rimmed saucers. " _...The Little Giant_ ," Asahi muttered in a daze, eyes never straying from the thief who now tore through the sky, flying far, far away from them. "Can you believe your eyes, Daichi? Can you believe this magic at all?"

He expected a dumb, equally surprised answer, something quiet and raspy and equally breathless- but when he got none, he turned, behind. And before he could say anything, the Commander of the Third Squadron ran swiftly past him, aura spiked and absolutely _dangerous_ , leaping over the seven-foot wall, running through the roofs and the tops of stores, eyes never straying from the trail of the flying, runaway thief.

  


__

_/ / /_

  


The wind sped like a blast around him, as he jumped and leapt through buildings, swinging his spear and manipulating the earth to help him with footholds when practically there were none. The blood rushed through his ears, feet powerful and tireless, yet his mind was calm. There was only one goal left in front of him, one he would accomplish on his word and honour as a Royal Commander- and Daichi ran, aiming a rain of sharp, muddy grains to hail upon the thief in a wave.

"Ack!" the guy yelled, taken by surprise, flying to avoid his attack and turning back to see Daichi closing in so swiftly onto him. "Just go away, Mister!" he shouted brazenly, dark wings flapping erratic like a disgruntled bird. "I didn't steal anything! Why're you guys chasing me like this?!"

"Stop lying! A crime is crime," Daichi yelled, jumping over a brewery as several children exclaimed in surprise at his stunts below. "What you've done is wrong, and you have to pay for it, boy!"

"Sorry!" the thief shouted, and then dived south. Daichi only had a moment to recover from the inertia after which he was jumping too, once again finding himself in the midst of a web of alleyways. He scanned carefully through the area, and moved when he saw an excitable movement about three feet away from him. He jumped, spear poised; the soil at his feet responded to his call, obeyed his commands- and with a huge, final leap, he found himself cornering the exhausted criminal right inside an alley again. Wings bent, small body exhausted, the guy looked pensively at him, and Daichi pointed his spear forward, daring him to take a step further away.

" _Yet again_ ," Daichi panted, a buzz humming in his ears. "Running away is futile, you-"

"Oh my God, please stop!"

The thief looked instantly behind him, surprised- and Daichi turned to see a rushing, panicked civilian scrambling closer and closer towards the scene. Without sparing him a single glance, the man ran right past him and towards the thief, clutching at his short shoulders and checking him all over. He rubbed the sweat and grime away from the boy's face, straightened down his clothes- and when he finally stilled and looked convinced that the boy was unharmed, his shoulders loosened, face melting into a pool of relief and kindness in the softest way possible.

The next instant, it hardened- and with a loud _thump_ , the man hit the thief right in the middle of his ruffled, flame-haired head.

"Hinata," he chided, voice stern yet concerned. "I have told you so many times to not do things like this, again and again! You never listen to me, but at least think before acting on impulses- you- _you_ -" he groaned, pushing away a few flippant locks from his face impatiently. "If not for yourself, at least think about Natsu a little! What do you think she'll do if you get into trouble, huh? I've told you so many times, if you have any problems-"

"Excuse me," Daichi interjected, confused and a tiny bit stunned. "If you don't mind, I need to take him ba-"

" _Stop._ I _do_ mind," the civilian interrupted him, annoyed, eyes exuding a level of care-mixed scariness Daichi could never even hope of achieving. He stilled, gulping, while the civilian turned back to the thief, and made a motion to hit him again. He almost reminded Daichi of an angry mother hen, somehow, though he had never actually seen one. "Hinata, you're the greatest idiot of your age I've ever met in my life. Do think about the people around you before jumping into things, would you?"

"But Suga-san," the thief called Hinata whined, rubbing his head. "I really didn't steal, not this time! All I wanted was to help that lady, when suddenly those guards started chasing me! The first thing that came to me was to run, so I just-"

"What do you mean by that?" Daichi shouted this time, tired and confused and very much defensive. "We were all there, and everyone saw when you stole from that woman and ran away!"

"I didn't steal from her, a cat did!" Hinata shouted back, voice cracking and desperate. "I was trying to catch it before it gobbled her fish- but then you guys came and messed everything up!"

Daichi stood silent, confused whether to believe the story or not. On one hand, this boy matched matched every description Tanaka and Nishinoya had given to them about the troublesome thief ( _"orange coloured hair", "insane fire-throwing ability", "crazy reflexes"_ ), but now that he thought about it, there had been the faint hiss of a cat when the woman had screamed, too. He could remember it only because he wanted to, and Hinata's face didn't look like the mask people made when they were lying. A good seven years in the Army had taught him the tricks, but the fluttering black wings bent behind his back signified a horde of secrets in the guy's background as well.

Before he could finish contemplating things and give an appropriate reply, a voice cut through the silence, saying, "Is that the truth?"

Daichi turned to look at the civilian, voice even, face still half-shrouded under the shadows of the alleyway. His figure was tall, quietly complacent- but there was a wave of emotion emanating from him, a wave that threatened to usurp any power that dared to try harm the boy caressed under his fingertips. "Is it true that you chased Hinata even though he didn't steal? Is it true that you mistook him for a thief, and attempted to harm him in such a way that his screams could be heard throughout the entire Kingdom?"

"Um," Daichi gulped, feeling genuinely scared for his life the first time in a while. He had never encountered someone with as affecting a presence before. "If it's truly a misunderstanding, then I sincerely apologise. It was a mistake from our part, and-"

The civilian tilted his head, and Daichi stopped abruptly. _Why was he suddenly so nervous?_ Slowly, almost carefully, the man made his way towards him, advancing out of the shadows, the outline of his face finally meeting the shy sunlight. He walked forward with decisiveness, hands in a fist by his sides- and Daichi waited for the moment he would get punched (though it was actually illegal to hit a soldier, under all conditions), but that dreadful moment never came.

Instead, the full visage of the man came into view, and he zoned out, awestruck. 

_Wow._ Daichi's sure he has not seen anything like this before.

(Inside his head, he could see a miniature Asahi patting the back of an equally miniature, ridiculously blushing him. This was too much for him to handle alone.)

White, silver short locks bordered his skin that shone like cream and moonlight. Swirling brown eyes looked at him fixedly, soft, thin lips stretching into a frown that looked too good to be legal. Pale, slender arms covered in a green shirt, a white frilled apron, and long, endless pair of legs clad in fitting, dark blue pants. The beauty mark near his right eye had never seemed so fitting on a person before, and Daichi can undoubtedly say that he has never cared this much for a person's appearance during his seven long years in the Army. Even in the whole of his life, perhaps.

The man- no, angel, no, fairy, no, an offspring of both- stands tall before him, a few inches shorter, feet stopping with a subtle swish that can only remind Daichi of dancers and dragonflies and the breeze that ruffled his hair whenever he wanted to look the most presentable. The man looks deep into his eyes, penetrating through his soul- and in the most surprising turn of events, the mask of coldness slips off for a warm, broad smile, and Daichi almost dies from the way his heart skips three consecutive beats at the sight.

 _Fuck-_ what the hell was wrong with him?

"I understand it was a misunderstanding," the guy remarks, eyes closing like crescents, cheeks looking soft and smooth like a child's. "I hope my young friend there didn't give you much trouble. He can be a bit much sometimes- but you followed him this far, so I have no doubt in your endurance! Have a good day, Sir, and if you have the time, do visit my bakery nearby for refreshments!"

The man waves at him, turning back and grabbing his flame-haired companion by the collar. "And you, mister, are coming with me," he commands assertively, motherly-voice back, and Daichi doesn't find it in himself to react in any way, shape or form before he is left alone in the alleyway, the slight smell of cider and apple pies lingering heady in the air. His heart is doing somersaults inside his ribcage, and his life doesn't make sense anymore.

He finds Asahi (or does Asahi find him?) about twenty minutes later, both of them struggling through the thick bustling crowd to get within a proper speaking distance. One look at his face, and the bearded man asks, "Daichi, what happened to you?"

Daichi stares blankly at his friend, trying in vain to refute the only thought that's been going through his mind for a while now. _I think I just fell in love, brother._

That is a particularly embarrassing line of thought to share with his best friend, so instead, he asks: "Hey, do you think they have any bakeries around here?"

"Huh?" Asahi startles, caught off-guard. "Since when are you such a fan of sweets?"

"I really wasn't," Daichi admits, musing. "But I guess it won't hurt to try. Wanna check some out the next time we come here?"

"Sure," Asahi concedes easily, shrugging amicably. As they turn on their journey back, he asks, "Say, what happened to catching that thief? Did we fail so bad at being Commanders today?"

"Well, I _did_ catch him. It's just that he didn't steal anything... this time." Daichi runs a hand through his cropped locks, tightens the grip on his spear. "I still think that's our guy though. We just need to catch him properly next time."

"You seem very determined about this," Asahi remarks, curious. "What happened to crying over coming to the city, Daichi?"

"Well, the city's nice. And it's people. And I wasn't crying Asahi- don't mistake me for Tanaka."

"Can I compare you with Nishinoya then?" Asahi asks, smiling cheekily, and Daichi sighs, tired and content and a bit too overwhelmed.

"Just don't tell them we failed our mission, okay?" he replies, looking up at the clouds and thinking about short silver locks and milky-smooth skin and long, long legs. "Let's save that conversation for when we've finally caught that thief. I swear I'll catch him fairly one day."

Asahi glances sideways, and smells the scent of apples and fake determination easily from the air. He stares for a beat at his friend, then smiles. "Sure you will. And I hope I'll be there when it happens, Commander."

  


__

_/ / /_

  


In a place not far away, Tsukishima Kei wakes up from a deep morning slumber, hazy eyes picking out the quill in his hands, music in his ears, the books on the History of Magic and Advanced Alchemy snapping open around him. Slowly, he raises up from the desk, straightens on his seat in the chair; looks out the small window of his room, and hopes that Yamaguchi is doing fine all by himself in the cafe.

It's very rare that he dreams. Tsukishima's slumbers never raise beyond the strictly necessary level, his subconscious mostly locked away within its own subconscious abode. It's very seldom that it comes forward, breaks free of its chains; throws all inhibitions to the wind, and displays a myriad of happenings and images in front of his eyes, often too illogical and fantastic for his taste. He adjusts his glasses, and focuses gradually on the single picture frame standing lonely on one side of his desk. He mostly dreams when it's a full moon outside, or if there's an abnormal amount of magic floating in the air- he's always been sensitive like that. Doesn't mean he likes dreaming any more than he used to as a child.

Which wasn't a lot. Really.

Tsukishima stares at the picture, one taken countless years back, the wintry Fall of crimson dry leaves posing as a bright, picturesque background. There is a woman in it, young and blonde and smiling, brown eyes laughing and enthralled. A tall, taller boy stands close beside her, grin showing teeth, dirty gold hair ruffled wildly in the breeze. And then there is a smaller boy, youngest in the family- glasses dark, hair cropped, golden eyes matching the sun-kissed hair on his scalp. A thirteen-year him tries hard to scowl in the picture, but his mother has cradled him on her lap, and his brother is relentlessly tickling him from behind, so there is no option left but but for him to smile. Tsukishima sighs; he's usually in tandem with his own mind and thoughts, but sometimes the memories get the better of him. And that temperamental subconscious never makes things any better.

_"Kei, stop scowling and just take the picture! You don't want Mom to scold you again, do you?"_

"Shut up," he whispers irately, snapping off the piano in his ears with a flick of fingers. Instead, he picks up his wand and starts a violin melody, furious and weeping and enraged in emotion, and drowns in the notes until the face of his smiling mother and teasing brother and practically forgotten family erases itself completely from view.

The picture on his desk stands upright still in the sunlight, his quill working hard on scribbling the notes just beside. The house echoes in silence, but the music keeps him alive. Keeps him from falling, keeps him sane- like it has done for all these years.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter had a lot of action, and was very difficult to write, so I hope this mess is at least understandable. Please feel free to share your opinions, the parts which you liked the most, the parts which sucked, etc- each comment makes my day, and motivates me to write faster and faster!
> 
> Kudos and bookmarks are joys, and I hope everyone is enjoying this! Bye bye, and I wish you all a great day/night! :))


	8. Surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot believe I'm posting a chapter in the middle of exam week, but that is exactly what I'm doing. Sorry for the long gap, and I hope everyone enjoys this!

The hot, dusty wind blew behind his ears, ruffling his jet-black sweep of hair and sending shivers down his arms. With cold steps, he walked through the Market, careful to avoid the glare of the sun as much as possible. It wasn't very fatal, but sunlight had a way of burning his skin when his body heat was at a perpetual dwindling level of zeroes and minuses. With slow movements and a sluggish head, he looked around as he walked, hoping against hope he hadn't lost his way again.

Directions were never his thing. It was simply a wonder how strangers to Nekoma only found _him_ to inquire about them.

"Oh hey there, you're early today! Good morning!"

And there was Sugawara-san, all smiles and teeth, waving and sweeping and looking much too awake for such an ungodly hour in the morning. He wasn't lost, after all. With a small nod and hurried steps, he made his way towards the bakery, trying his best to not freeze the pavement as he walked over it. He had been a bit careless recently- the devil called sleep had been evading him like crazy these days.

The bakery looked as prim and inviting as always. With pink and blue frills, and a transparent glass door, the bells inside tinkled whenever one stepped in through the wooden stairs and into the warm, fragrant enclosure. With a curt greeting to the owner of the shop, he pushed through the door and walked inside, making his way straight for the kitchens, a pair of enchanted hat and apron following him obediently through the air. Narita's small, signature muffins looked fresh and delicious on the trays, Kinnoshita setting up the utensils ahead in a neat and organised manner. The steam and smell made him feel hungry, but breakfast could be done later.

For the time being, he greeted his colleagues a with small _Morning_ , enquired whether Ennoshita-san would be coming to work or not (God knows how chaotic the shop could become without his calm, assertive presence), and began with his own work in the kitchen counter.

An hour and half later, all the employees of the bakery (including a grateful Sugawara-san) could be seen feasting on a basket of perfectly-whipped pastries as a late breakfast, a string of pats and praises falling from the seniors onto the youngest employee of the establishment. He looked down, at his hands that fought fire with their ice-cold touch- and revelled in the moment. It was a bright, sunny morning, a normal day at _Koushi's_ , and it would be a good few hours before he would ever have to worry about food again.

  


__

/ / /

  


The pink and blue frills of the bakery stared at him invitingly. Daichi took in a deep breath; this was one of the last sweet shops around the locality, the last one he was yet to search in, and he wished he would just find that civilian already.

The chime of glass bells rang overhead as he pushed through the glass door and wearily stepped in. At once, the warm, enrapturing smell of fresh pasties and baked goods wrapped him in a delicious, overpowering hug, one he didn't find himself immune to even after a good hour of bakery-hunting on the streets. Or _baker_ -hunting. Whatever. This shop was more crowded than the others, with patrons of all ages pushing and lining around the counter. He bends down to look longingly at the neat display of cakes baked to perfection, half with awe and half hungrily, cursing the empty purse in his pocket for not having enough to afford even one mouth-watering delicacy. Who knew buying civilian clothes took up more than half of his salary these days? The times were strange now.

Maybe he was too poor. Maybe, he shouldn't have ever given in to his impulses and done this.

  


**(** "Wait, what?" Asahi had exclaimed, in genuine surprise, when Daichi had broken the news to him as flippantly and casually as possible. "You- You sent a letter to Saeko asking for a day off? And actually managed to convince her? I don't remember you doing that in the last seven years!"

"Well," he had shrugged, nonchalant, "After our trip to the city yesterday, I just thought it'd be good to take a break." He had sighed wistfully for emphasis, trying to remove all possible suspicion on himself from the one source he feared the most. "As you said, it's my first holiday in seven years. Isn't that something?"

Asahi had been quiet for a beat, after which, "Say, Daichi?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you sure it's just that?" A light had flickered in his friend's eyes, like an idea, a probable, amusing revelation. "You sure there isn't any other reason you're suddenly attracted to the city now? We came here only for our jobs, you know? "

Daichi had stiffened infinitesimally, in the process of removing the wrought iron-guards from his arms and shoulders. "Yes, I know. And I'm sure there isn't anything else," smiling mechanically, sweat beading near his brow, he had turned around and stared at Asahi with a tired, sleepy mock-glare. "I just need a holiday, brother, especially with Tanaka and Nishinoya and our whole squadron bunch running around like kids in the castle. For once, just let your friend have some peace, will you?"

Asahi had smiled, too agreeable and entertained for Daichi's liking. "Okay. Make sure to enjoy your holiday, Commander. Best of luck." **)**

  


Daichi sighed. In retrospect, maybe Asahi _did_ know something after all. They had been stuck together since childhood, and the quiet man knew each of Daichi's quirks like the back of his hand. Maybe it was futile to lie to him. And maybe it was futile to take a day off and come here. In this town he hardly knew anything of, maybe it was pointless to roam around and search for an angel who wasn't meant for his eyes, after all. Maybe this was all useless, maybe it was all- maybe he just wasn't-

"Ah, welcome to _Koushi's_! What can I get you toda-"

Daichi looked up from the cakes the moment the voice faltered, a startling recognition stunning the moment in mutual silence. The soldier looked up into those ever-familiar brown eyes, staring at him with something akin to shock and surprise and disbelief. His lips gasping, silver hair parted most perfectly ever, the angel looked just how he had two days before, and despite his surprise, Daichi felt his shoulders stooping, body relaxing, mind finally wrapping it's conscience around that one thought he had been chasing about since daybreak.

_Finally, found you._

"Oh," the guy behind the counter breathed out, taking a moment to recover, a hand placed primly over the glass. "It's... it's you, isn't it? The soldier from the other day, in that alley?" He looked unsure of himself, trying to smile through his apparent awkwardness. "I mean, it's not like you remember me, but-"

"I do," Daichi interrupted him, a tiny bit breathless. He took inhaled in deep, the air all cakes and apples, and willed himself to not mess _this_ up. "I mean, I do remember you. I remembered what you said, about your bakery, and I'm not too big on sweets but-" he shrugged, trying to smile his charming best, "here I am, I guess. Hello."

"H-Hi," the other guy looked shocked, maybe even suspicious. "Um, it's very good to see you here, Soldier-san. Welcome to _Koushi's_ , my name is Sugawara Koushi. I'm uh, the owner of this establishment."

"Sawamura Daichi," he extended a hand over the counter, Sugawara taking it with a soft touch and slight hesistancy that set fireworks off in Daichi's chest. "It's a pleasure, Sugawara-san."

The silver-haired man smiled, relaxed and endearing. His left cheek was smeared with flour, a soiled apron tied around his waist that looked too worn-out for use, but he looked stunning nonetheless. "So," the owner started casually, eyeing Daichi with a mix of curiosity and mirth, "Now that you're here, I suppose you wish for a purchase. if you're not too big on sweets, can I recommend something else for you?"

Daichi grinned, bright and exhilarated. "Why not?" he shrugged, feeling happy and light and like his toil for the day had finally paid itself off. "I'm not too big on sweets, but I guess it wouldn't hurt to try."

A spark of confidence played in Sugawara's eyes, narrowed but prideful. _God, he was beautiful._ "Oh, I assure you," he whispered, sliding out from behind the counter with practised ease and grace, a hand much too near Daichi's on the glass, "You're going to _love_ these."

The soldier smiled, returning Sugawara's own. _Don't worry, I think I already do._

  


About three minutes later:

"So, Sugawara-san-"

"You know what, just call me Suga. It's weird being so formal with my customers, honestly."

"Um, okay." _He's as sweet as his profession._ "So, Suga. First, those things you're baking in the oven look delicious-"

"Oh my god, they're called _pies_! You really know nothing about sweets, do you?"

"Um, no I don't. Secondly, I really wanted to ask you- how are you and that guy with black wings related?"

"Huh? Do you mean Hinata?"

"Yeah, I guess? That guy from the alley... You two don't look like siblings, but it's like you've known each other for a long time. I was just, a bit curious."

"Oh... You're right, we have. Hinata lives with his sister deep at the edge of this Market- you know, 'round those slums and all? They're... they're not very strong financially, and Hinata's actually a really good kid, so I try to help them out as much as I can. You know, cook them food, make them gifts, take them out if I have the time sometimes. They're good kids, with big hearts. And though Hinata has a penchant for attracting trouble, he's... kind of _special_. He's different from others, including his magic, and I just think they deserve to be cared for. Cared for, and protected, when no one else would like to bother with them."

"... So, you're- you're basically like a family."

"Yeah... you could say that. They were orphaned at a very early age, and came to Nekoma during the plague outbreak. It's been hard for them since _forever_ , so I just try to help." He laughed a little, eyes closing like crescents. "I myself have too little of a family left, so taking care of them feels nice, too."

 _Wow, beautiful and kind? This is surreal._ "I see. I'm sorry for the misunderstanding two days ago. We should've evaluated the situation better."

"Oh, it's alright. I daresay I had been very rude with you too, which is half the reason I was so surprised to see you here. I hope we can avoid things like that from now on, Sawamura-san."

"Please, just call me Daichi."

"Okay, Daichi," Sugawara smiled, bright and cheerful, gloved hands deftly taking out a steaming hot tray from the stone oven. "And... looks like your pies are ready! They're apples, which are sweet and crunchy, but just have this delicate balance between the salt and caramel. Usually our youngest chef is in charge of the pies but," he winked, oblivious to the turmoil he wracked in the soldier's heart, "we have a special customer today, so I decided to do it myself. I hope you enjoy this, and I hope to see you around again!"

  


Sawamura Daichi clumsily trod down the bakery steps, hands full, face hot, ribs close to bursting with the tiny explosions of _feelings_ in his chest. A few hours later, when Asahi beats him to the race and runs away with his bag of the tastiest _apple pies_ he had ever bought in his life (with a generous discount, on top of that), Daichi admit's that it has been a good holiday after all. Maybe he should take more breaks like this; Saeko might be mad, but he has seven years of holidays piled high among his papers.

Now that he finally has a _life_ outside the castle, he wouldn't let any of them go to waste. He really wouldn't.

  
__

_/ / /_

  


The clear dark night advanced lazily, skimming through the golden clouds as the moon glowed brighter than the sun over the horizon. With long, swishing steps, Kuroo jumped over the roofs, through the topmost branches of the feyern and over clumsy roadside railings. It was his second time out, a second pact finally made with his valet; and this was a fresh respite from the bustling crowd of the market. Don't get him wrong- he loves the crowd, more than a traveller should, honestly; but this was an other kind of fun, an other kind of adventure, of which he just couldn't get enough. His training classes with Ukai-san were finally paying off, and in the most amazing way possible.

 _One, two three._ On and on he jumped, black cloak flying behind in the wind. His feet were as light as a cat's, magic cautiously freed and boundless. The grin he held matched exactly with the exhilaration trapped in his chest, and he just couldn't wait to reach his destination again. That small, dingy little cafe, held together most perfectly with pure beauty and magic.

"Oho, now this is new. One doesn't often see people like you 'round these parts, boy."

Kuroo's feet stop instantly, body balanced perfectly over a tall, twenty-foot long rooftop. There's a small gathering of people in the alley below, and though the figures are shrouded in darkness, he can recognise the tallest one of them with the strangest of ease.

"Please excuse me," a voice he has committed to memory irately shakes away the hooligans', as Tsukishima tries sidestep those men in the alleyway, only to be obstructed by another man again. "I have work, and I'm getting late."

"Aww, he's got _work_ ," one of the muscled, teeth-glinting men laughed with a roguish lilt to his voice, his companions sickly joining in. "People like you have no business 'round here, you know? If you need to, however," his laugh turns into a smirk, eyes dropping low, "then the only work you could do was for us, sweetheart."

The brutes erupt into raucous, ear-peircing laughter, as Tsukishima clenches his fists, and Kuroo shifts on his toes. He's silent, still like a predator; but his magic has turned darker, intense, and he's too close to losing his control. _No one should dare to touch him,_ his magic whispers to itself. _Take one step more, and I'll give you a taste of Hell._

Tsukishima tries to walk forward again, wanting to reach Se Cuetrar in probably the shortest way possible. Yet again still, another man slides in front of him, grinning and amused with a lusty spark in his eyes. Licking his lips, the man caresses a wandering hand over Tsukishima's face, cradling his jaw, and the golden-haired boy flinches from the touch as if burned, his answering scowl one of deep annoyance and disgust.

"Leave," he grits out, teeth clenched together. Twenty feet above him, the air swirling around Kuroo drops into a deadly, dark chill.

The noble's charming amber eyes turn a glowing golden, the magic in his veins responding to the thrum of his blood. Under the shadow of the moon, his ferocious form resembles that of a ferocious monster, cape flying, with flame-lit orbs, the promise of a disaster hanging silent in the moonlit air.

Maybe it's because of the moon, or maybe it's his magic, angry and outraged and most painfully withheld- but Tsukishima looks up from his place, to the sky. He looks up, towards the rooftop, and directly at Kuroo. He glances at him for one full moment, with a widening of his eyes and a gasp from his lips; in the next though, those orbs narrow down in a challenge, lips thinning flat, a small smirk blooming haughtily on his features. 

Even when he was so close to losing control, Kuroo feels his heart skip a beat at that.

"Hey, where do you think you're looking?" one of those men rasp, voice deep and shrill and unpleasant to the ears. "If you think you can escape, then don't even try. We don't want to force you, but if you won't obey us, then you can be rest assured that no one will be there to hear your cries of help."

Tsukishima looked down, tilting his face and staring at the man with the most graceful disdain on his features. "Oh yeah?" he remarks, plucking out a long twisted wand from his robes, swishing it most casually with his fingers. "I got the screaming part, but I don't understand how _anyone's_ entitled to listen to whatever _you've_ got to say, mister. You own nobody here, most certainly not me, and it's most presumptuous of you to say things like that."

"Oh, got quite the mouth on you, huh?" the burliest of the group, most probably the leader, pushes his way forward, standing too close for comfort to the bespectacled boy. He smiles eerily at him, bunching his hands. "Let's hear you say that when I make you _scream_ , okay?"

The men burst into sneers and laughs, advancing in on Tsukishima from all sides. Kuroo feels himself tip over the roof, body itching to beat them all into a pulp- but Tsukishima smiles back at the man, raising his wand straight up.

"I object," he says simply, and before any of the rogues or Kuroo can break out of their confusion, the shadows of the night are enveloped in a bright, silvery smoke, which bursts into a powerful blast of blue flames just a moment after.

Kuroo shields his eyes with a hand, the power of the explosion bellowing out his cloak and almost disrupting his balance on the rooftop. When the sound dies off, and a heavy buzz settles in the air, he looks down, to the scene in the alley below. There, in the midst of a screen of silver and a circle of scattered, unconscious bodies, the golden-eyed boy stands most regally poised, looking up at the rooftop with a smirk, as if he had just won a fucking challenge. A challenge that wasn't even fucking made.

"Greetings, Traveller-san," Tsukishima smiles, polite and sarcastic. "I never imagined you possessed the spirit of a monkey as well. Your hair spoke so heavily otherwise."

"Holy shit," Kuroo replies, spell-bound and star-struck and more than a tiny bit disbelieving. "I- I can't- In the name of the Grand King, this is-"

With no words left to speak, he jumps down from the roof with a practised landing, stumbling towards Tsukishima with a slack jaw and wide, wide eyes. _"What the hell?"_ he whispers, hands trembling with awe. "What the _hell_ did you just do? I mean- I mean- that magic was beyond impressive! I've never seen anything like that before!"

Tsukishima's eyes narrowed, smile giving way to a carefully neutral expression. "If you've not seen _that_ , then you certainly haven't seen much," he remarked, pocketing his wand and crossing his arms. "That was a basic combination jinx- a smoke shield used simultaneously with a blinding freeze explosion. It's a common spell for wizards, mostly harmless- unless used within a close vicinity of people who should really learn to stop meddling in someone else's business."

"Whoa," Kuroo exclaimed, impressed. "So you're a _wizard_? I admit, I didn't feel a strong magical aura from you when we first met, but what you did was pretty powerfu-"

Tsukishima held up a sudden hand, to interrupt Kuroo's speech, eyes hidden behind flashing rectangular glasses. "Please, enough about me," he whispered, looking with a borderline hostile gaze at the noble. "It seems you yourself are no mere magic user, as well. You can feel magical auras, and that power at the rooftop-" he lowered his eyes, tilting his head with a strange, knowing smile, "Certainly, you yourself are a beyond interesting traveller. Might I inquire about your reason of visit to these parts of the city again?"

Kuroo gulped, smiling awkwardly. This guy here was a sharp one, too perceptive to be innocent. The fire in his eyes contradicted his mostly disinterested demeanour, and it intrigued Kuroo more than anything before. He wasn't going to lose to him, not so easily anyway.

"My reason of visit, huh?" he crossed his arms, grinning charmingly. "Why, it's the same as yours, of course. Se Cuetrar!"

Tsukishima stared at him for a beat, then huffed irately. " _This night just doesn't end,_ " he whispered vilely, messaging his temple, voice dripping ominously with frustration and defeat. "Fine, do whatever you like. I have no business with you." He glared venomously at Kuroo, before advancing through the alley. "And that means _you_ have no business in mine as well. Please don't disturb me."

Kuroo grinned, skipping forward to match his pace with Tsukishima's as they started walking. "Well, can't guarantee that, you know," he remarked, hands behind his head, voice most jovial. "Our destination for the night is pretty much the same, so our businesses actually do intersect."

Tsukishima sighed, looking away. "Are you always this annoying, Traveller-san? Or do you specifically seek me out to annoy?"

"I could ask you the same, couldn't I? Are you purposefully so rude to every traveller you meet, or is it just me?"

"You're one of the most annoying travellers I've met, and so far I have got no reason to _not_ be rude to you."

"See, you're just so easy to annoy! Also, your face looks unfairly _cute_ when you're annoyed, so-"

" _Please._ Please just- shut up."

"Tsukki, I'm very sure I'm older than you, you know?"

"You act _nothing_ like it. Also, don't call me that."

"Call you what, _Tsukki_?"

"Seriously, just-"

"Yeah?"

"Stop talking."

"What if I don't?"

Tsukishima huffed, despairing. " _Gods_ , I swear I'll-"

The night wind whistled happily as the two men made their way to a common destination, bickering and squabbling like two tiny children. On another side of the city, a silver-haired baker paid a warm visit to a boy and his sister in the slums; a royal guard of the castle fell asleep as his best friend munched on a delicious bag of apple pies, and in the private bedchambers of Kuroo Tetsurou, Akaashi Keiji prayed that this time, the runaway noble would really return home before sunrise.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment or two if you liked it! Till the next chapter, I hope everyone has a great day/night! :))

**Author's Note:**

> So, I hope everyone like this.. Some things might be confusing, but fear not, everything shall be cleared gradually :)) I hope to update shortly, but until then, I would love it if some of you left your thoughts on this. Also, kudos and bookmarks are forever appreciated!
> 
> Bye bye for now, and I hope everyone has a good day/night! :))


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